Something curious falls between footsteps.
Closed eyes disguise
parenthetical thoughts
of what
remains at the end of long roads.
All I can see is the darkness,
inside eyelids.
I can almost see Mind,
drowning in fallen water.
Its smell permeates the air,
mixing with cedar trees,
half dead,
alone,
in a field far away.
Darkness illuminates
my subtle surrounding and
I dig deep in the pavement
to feel where it comes from.
But its useless to hope,
Nothing can be more clear
than the infinite
expanse of those
precious eyelids.
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