Sunday, February 20, 2011

As the senses begin 
to thicken like an abandoned stream 
full of yesterday's sediment,
the inner eye 
is sharpened. 

The past and present 
knit together 
with acidic 
nightmarish clarity

and the full garment 
comes at last
into focus. 


TACParent said...

Wow. This is an amazing poem. I'd expect to find it in a textbook asking students to interpret the meaning. Wowza, again.

Dymphna said...


Poems © Gemma W. Wilson