Modern Terrain


How linear, this world,
begged from the simplest calculation,
its roadways, its grocery aisles,
the hedgerows, the endlines and midlines
of playing fields, rows and rows of text
streamed point-to-point and cascading
over the spare-lit screen of a tiny device
in my hand . . .

How deeply round your eyes;
They capture the fleeting essence
of this moment; here; me.
A straight line cannot envelop, only
provide the barest definition
however coveted.

. . . I know you want your freedom,
yet what value is unearthed from
the impermanent?


Copyright 2013 by Michael Marsters.
All rights reserved.


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