There’s Nothing to Erase.
As the sun comes up the landscape
falls into perfect place
...hill by hill.. and in the hills
the light of dawn ...outside of Time
is bygone times and now.
and Time and History are not one
nothing has ended or begun..
Only the narrative is still.
Between a dream and dream I climb...
a valley opens up ....the walls are steep
the river flows so full of chemical
it may illuminate the sky
Ochre and pink of stench and stink..
the river is a painted line
the vegetation bleach.
where stylised trees send out their thirsty roots
to drink the sullied stuff.
Remote and far the mountains loom
without a moon I see
stones turn to ore and meteor
I lean towards the nigh-glow
of an early beam
no shadows fall..there are no shadows there at all.
A bird is losing life on flight
making no sound..the bird will not see night again..
the landscape perfectly in place
knitted like torn Brussels Lace
is backdrop to this death...
And
there is nothing to erase.
Kristine Byrne 23rd Dec. 2013