Friday, August 29, 2014

cloud chamber

flagging and empty
 the carousel passes
a recurrent sadness

the playhouse
 where children danced
has blank windows

he stands there
 outside his reflection
holding its hat

only now he notices her
 in the sunshine
that she left behind

he has awoken
 finally in the moment
when she departed

like a wisp of vapour
 strung around the muons
and leptons of memory

arcing delicately
 to the floor
of the cloud chamber

the trail of tears
 as fine as spiderweb
falling from the stars

the masculine mind
 it grasps at particles
long after they have gone

tracing the rays
 describing everything
touching nothing

the missed kisses
 their kelvin number
noted, quantitised

captured:
 they remain even so
unborn