I awake into the midst of life,
       half spent and losing ground.
              The blue is turning over my head.
              Words are wan and shuddering.
       I see someone I should have known
but their face is void and scattered.

Sound is dripping in the vault,
       an endless unrhythmic cipher.
              The plan was never heard or even made.
       The hunt is hounding out the questions.
I scan the street with an open face.

Hand-drawn minutes prefigure my dust.
       I search for a hold to place my hand.
              Trees in a row are passing swiftly.
       I cannot remember when this began
or where I first heard a human voice.

It was an echo of a murmur,
       an enigma within a mirror,
              a matter of doubling sight.
       I stumble toward a darkling path
and rise upward within the wind.

Now I’m face to face with the mystery.

I have awoken into my life.

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