L'aura del Campo

Inner sinkholes [40]

Inner sinkholes

Holes within me widen;
synapses of raw nerves now rot.
What was certain land dissolves to quicksand.
What was once transparent now is not.
Opaque senses invade my being;
thoughts evade, just mere abstractions.
Poorly poured concrete crumbles; my home,
a bed of soil and weeds, awaits me.
Mere blush remains where pastel
landscapes lost their color.
In this place of near horizons,
I celebrate each emptiness,
hoping you will deign to fill it.

© Kåre Enga (20.abril.2017) [174.40]

Well... not quite sure where this is going! But... by posting I can edit at will.

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