Pinholes

(first appeared in “Mind in Motion  -winter 1990)

Blind concentrations of power,
generated by a cycle of souls on the ground;
people,
with mineral objectives,
raising voices of anger to tune of the discontent.

Time patterns the arrangement:
pride stands primped in historical mirrors.
Decades refract,
and day after day wears paint fresh with new colors.

New banners are boldest.
Old shades, once brilliant,
smashed subtle by modern materials;
pieces fly,
and beams align by random habitation.
The subsequent structures are founded in mud.

Destiny!
A parody of light,
Images are bent in transcription,
millions of faces are pressed to the screen.

Prisms:
adding fuzz to the uncertain,
bending ray after ray till the spectrum has faded to black.

Folly!
Small sparks obtain lighthouse proportions;
clowns play kings as they dance on the darkened stage.

Pinholes,
fostered by contrast,
cold aspects of sunlight drawing moths to be singed at the
wing.

The streets are lined with treadmills,
millions on millions march grasping at stars.

Ardent,
whims raised to a passion,
adding heat and momentum to a fire raging out of control.

The ground is burned to gray,
the heat suckling on modern chaos.
All shades are distorted and colors are blended to drab.

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