Islands


Eyes, oh, those islands I know not even the names of,
unidentified vegetation, enigmatic wildlife.

Collapse soon airy ocean, impending cloud, cloak the nocturnal
street, enshroud voyager in your dense atmosphere.
From the distance, the sound of engines in the swirling mosaic:
exhaust, wind barking between houses claimed,
the clarion belch of a train on the outskirts
of town-
and a silence in growing nearer to something thought distant.

Islands, those planets intermittent in the subversive mists spillage.

Anchored at the edge of ancient light,
dissolved beyond the hive's hollow discoloration,
I act as receiver to the concord, cup in the ocean.
Further from fluorescence, paused past the regimented frames,
a birthed reflection in brief repose.

Planets, yes, those islands that come closer in reprise,
extraneous regions discovered, intermittent eyes.

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