Fontanelle, Poetry by David Leo Sirois

Genre: Rhyme, Life

 

Fontanelle

Clocks have been stripped from all walls

as well as all forgotten gods

in an orchestrated effort to disorient us all

 

in the cylindrical silver corridor where time abides

in its own loneliness almost absent at this time

 

Even the eyes of my eyes cannot trace

how long it has lasted & how far it will stretch its

long thin limbs It is not available for questioning at this time

 

At this time we cannot say or guess

the trajectory of flashes on/off

to open wide eyelids & shut them down again

 

The space between seconds is

interminable unbearable at times & the length of

my spine immeasurable this moment

 

The crown of my head quietly lifting off

of its own volition

 

Fragile circle of my fontanelle The point of gentle

pressure from below The tiniest bit of dust is

all I am capable of carrying at times

 

My questions sing in an unbroken flow of

legato notes a melody of urgency

toward a certain yet forever unexpected end

 

The rest is silence he said & let go of his breath

 

 

    * * * * *

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This entry was posted in 2016 poetry, new poetry, poem, poet, poetry, Poetry Festival, poetry genres, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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