Poem – Black hole

I look over my shoulder, bare

To see what lay beyond

Sensing what I’d lost

What had been and gone

 

Gone before I knew

What I’d lost for good

Lost in black hole, left behind

An object, that I should

 

Have thought of more

Have thought to store

In memory of kind

 

Embellishment of what is real

A dream, I couldn’t find

 

What I sensed in sight

I lost that night

I approached what came to me

 

I knew at last

I had a grasp

Of what had come to see

 

It came to see the brighter light

To feel, to touch, to clench

Only fiction left in afterglow

Rendered my intelligence

 

Void of knowledge, left with despair

Lost in black hole, left for dead

A chasm, rift, a hollow place

I stared at death, my final bed

 

What and where and how,

Had black hole come to me?

Like a magnet, like a moth to flame

Unwilling to accept, it couldn’t be

 

Acting out what I’d dreamt

Like Impressionistic art

Painting the view of life I knew

Painting refreshment, a new start

 

Once upon a time there was a man

Whose clock began again

Black hole replaced with wonderment

Why – for whom, and how, and when?

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