#971 - in the conversation

 

971

in the conversation

 

a map begins to appear

(call it mind’s eye)

 

dim vague unknown destinations

 

distance lines a face

so you see

days months ages go with the map

whole childhoods and dotages there

 

map is a destiny of footfall, wheel

 

every word in the conversation

                                 draws in

because to be with those who have been

is always where we begin

 

map is the extent of all ways

 

one question and a thousand

of what do you call them here?

 

conversation incompletes

 

and once they were gone

so were the names

 

the floor the walls the roof all vanished

so was the way to go  

 

we are strangers here alone

pay with mere presence

 

follow a tour flag

lot to be lost

 

the years of dust are underfoot

and bright as our sun just happens round

so traipse in dust and mould above

the planet’s shining unseen core