NIGHT SHIFTS
Aimlessly walking through
the quiet town, an echo
painlessly affirms belonging.
Night falls;
the day disintegrates -
all reference fails.
I cannot wrap this world
in meaning. Slowly it burns
out the old images, the worn
words, the soiled. This is
the turning point; the nights
calm trodden underfoot.
Hold out your hands;
capture a fragment
of the neon-splintered
sky. A window brightly
shouts its wares.
Stares
into darkness
and reveals
its own banality.
Malcolm Evison (1978)
2 comments:
"Night falls;
the day disintegrates -
all reference fails."
That really is a breathtaking line. It's a theme I see popping up quite a bit in my poetry, often unitentionally - the transitory nature of our individual and collective self. Reference depends on the deceit of daylight to maintain it.
Thanks Martyn - your comment's much appreciated! I've always felt night to be a revelatory time - a time when somehow we are "exposed" to ourselves without a safety net!
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