My Human Disguise.
There’s light and its divisibility
Or blackness and invisibility.
We get distant glimpses of genesis,
Stars that could blink out at any second
Or bloom like a lovely woman’s kiss.
No, in our beginning is not our end.
Time is a thrown bone, not an arrow,
Flung end over end, sucked of its marrow.
The story of the universe, begun
Long before the kindling of our sun
Has been acted out, but never told,
A dumbshow of the older growing old.
A boy in leg braces has his star; stares
At it when he can. It is always there.
Note: Photo artwork by the author.
