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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