A Hundred Gourds 2:3 June 2013
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page 8  

Marilyn Humbert - Australia


I peer above the rim, my eyes dragged to the pitch-black abyss, down-dizzy, down, down.

this well
a black hole -
I am drawn
swallowed and compressed
like nearby suns and moons

From within the thickening miasma forms gel and melt. I am curious and unafraid. There is something familiar … perhaps.

in this void
my sleeping time
is filled with shadows
voices sing forgotten songs
call a name that is not mine

I awake feeling I have misplaced something. The wings that fan my dreams linger

each night
appear before me
messengers or demons
… my own memories


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