Monday, November 28, 2011

Philosophical Instruments

[Back porch Norma photo]

Lenses, table-top pots
Stop instants.
Senses trimmed in retorts
Decant, tease
An essence out of light,
A cosmos out of night.
You'd think a
Mind that spans
All time would
Not change suddenly,
Impose what
Could be upon what
Was but sometimes that's
All it does.


  1. I finished reading this the first time, somehow suddenly thinking it could be titled "Teas/Tease"...why was that, do you think?

  2. I don't know, Willie. Homonyms or M&Ms? My hearing's shot.