Statements

The world has been filled with statements.
We have forgotten the allusion
behind the illusion of each dust
choked word.  Where are the visions?
Trees moving as a laundry of silk,
painted colors in the wind
drawing back each upon the other.
They reveal the shadows that hold them
to the earth.  Yet the air is
there, shifting in hue and form,
exposed by each branch in motion,
each leaf swirled by the wind's
maelstrom of canvass sky.
The cloths and tapestries overlap forever.

                  published in For the Love of Death, the early years, 2nd ed., S.I.N., 1993.