Photo Hans Jørgen Rasmussen


She plays safe, present
In her absence of clarity,
Missing the focal point
Without fading entirely.
A half-secret revealed
Holds her mystery complete.
You can almost hear her,
Magical, crystalline.
Then she slides out of reach,
An imperfect Doppler effect
Leaving elusive traces
Of half-attempted flight,
The undefinable coincidence
Of sound and light.

© C.W. 1998


04:15 Écrit par Chris47 dans Poems in English | Lien permanent | Commentaires (0) |  Facebook |

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