The shock of wondering
What our ghosts leave behind
When we move on
Into a distant closeness
All the pieces scattered whole
Across counterfeit verisimilitude
The picture outside the frame
Tends to reliable uncertainty
Knowing this world is ending
While delaying the new one
Being born fully grown
Into our forgotten memories
What will we say after this
What light breaks through walls
Through permanent glass
The silence of all this noise
JanPoWriMo 16
