Glitter in the Nuclear

Where there were glints of light
In the distant horizon, passing
Through funeral wakes, buildings
Decaying in the morning mist--
Ivy drawing life deep into the bones
Of places forgotten-- I wander aimless
For figures no one's ever seen.
For shadows in the dawn-strike
By luck and perseverance, and the
Great grief of dead gods--
Failures of the modern world
Writhing in the mold of centuries
Suffocating in my hands.
In dreamy haze, in pools of water
Still and beautiful, a certain
Kind of lavender pale
Consumes a man inside himself.
My fingertips are tracing patterns
In the porch wood, and I picture
A fingertip mirrored tracing mine--
All his aching heart in the lines
Sinking in the circles around
A white owl's eyes in the dark twilight.
And a man could lose himself
In the brevity of peaceful daydreams
That fall, and fall forever
Comets across the pitch of the sky--
The faces of gnomes in the garden
Cast tall shadows, split between hydrangeas
Strawberries that swell for an absent touch
Where I hesitate to chase figures
Instead-- And beg them to be tangible.