Thursday, September 26, 2013
Rulers, like any tool of measurement,
Define the point of stoppage at each end
Of a thing, not the distance in between.
The moon and earth limit the firmament.
The lunar clock compresses each second.
Our sight stops the seen short with the unseen.
I greedily pluck from the ruler tree
The limitations that will set me free.
Someone has marked the bole. I must hurry
To get back and pluck all I can carry.
Evil men will soon come to cut it down;
Perhaps they watch from that darkened prison.
I'll have enough to build an entire town
If I stay unblinded by my vision.