Development

The liquid is a potion
but not a truth serum,
it only reveals.

Bathing the paper in the chemicals
in the sealed-off room
I am surrounded by nothing.

A boy in the gloaming.
A man is a gadfly gathering,
always gathering.

A boy wanders the night paths
amidst the shadow trees
and star-branches.
A man sits pondering,
always pondering.

A boy subdues a forest
passing through its tunnels
and mud pits
skimming and plumbing
a creek's mysteries.

A man is left with nothing
always nothing.

I hang the photo to drip
dry in the dark
and leave into all the somethings
rushing like a creek.


This is the third draft for this poem.

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Untitled

A boy in the gloaming.
A man is a gadfly gathering,
always gathering.

A boy wanders the night paths
amidst the shadow trees
and star-branches.
A man sits pondering,
always pondering.

A boy subdues a forest
passing through its tunnels
and mud pits
skimming and plumbing
a creek's mysteries.

A man is left with nothing
always nothing.

This is the second draft of this poem. The first draft of this poem was written on June 24, 2019 with minor changes here.