STRAW MEN IN THE FIELDS OF THE MIND
Nothing stays the same when you look at it
for long enough. There always remains
an empty reality in the centre, a little town
abandoned by the imagination;
as soon as someone has been there,
they tend to talk a lot less. It’s a feeling
of being in the middle of something,
only you don’t know where you are
or what surrounds you:
a swinging pendulum
that touches the extremes
but never reaches equilibrium.
I want to lie down in the snow
and let it blissfully cover me,
like a lost, exhausted soldier.
Published in Martello
S.C. Flynn 