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Mary Margaret Park



a lane into oblivion

a grey picture scape

where moon beams

splinter the darkness

they speak of empty spaces

cold and barren 


I’ve traveled there

thrust forward in an endless charcoal blur

where only the darkest shadows

offer definition

and what lies beneath them holds a bitter rage


Within a forest of sorrow and pain

I’ve seen answers

cloaked in a stark and troubled sway

the flame clasped gutters

in the bitterest of winds


I’ve clutched the light

fearful that it would be extinguished

and then it steadied in my hands

my heart was heavy

surely the flames macabre

dance was more than I could bear


I saw him peering through the darkness

and I stepped forward


A carefully refined image

snapshots, a mirror of still images


images in nature

surface reflections on a still lake

illusions of calm

that belie the deeper undercurrents beneath

the beauty of light dancing forms

a visual image

defined in a moment of time, those seconds a reason for living.


a fleeting moment of wonder and grace

in contradiction of the senses

superficial impressions

become favoured fallacies


initial impressions have no gauge in familiarity

the degree we engage one another is tempered by the unknown

Hesitation’s folly is in its measure

yet Its protections advise caution

misinterpretations lead

too/down other roads…


layers of complexity and depth

go un-noticed


or significant?

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