tom taylor

poet loop

uneven signs the hands across the waters of the
pool with no reflection mimics the light upon
the darker aspects of human thought & feeling
which encourage such things to exist at all now

existism posits the near dune as the last rise before
the flat blue sea, down on the beach where a shrine
has been built from driftwood sticks and a seashell
graveyard for unimportant thoughts there yesterday

your treasure in the mail from whence we all came
together to the gathering of the last tribes from the
known world, while all that follows will be from the
unknown world we are just now entering no maps