Full poem:
A shadow beneath the window fluttered like torch flames.
Angels I called them because
-like trees- they just exist in the landscape.
Often I walked out at night
the day another blur of what
like so many others, will be forgotten.
How to reconcile the broken hours
which we are
too tired
to turn back.
Now this moment
near invisible
the angels sound
swirled the time
out of paradise.
In the forest
of childhood
I saw as one sees
by torchlight.
Live
to know the places that gather
every minute of every day
with all its wonder.
Dreamcatcher No. 1 - Collage and Cyanotype mounted on a 20” hoop.
