Lasting Impressions or; maybe, maybe, just maybe so.
a hardened artery circumvents finger tips
a gravity in reverse
we leave prints which (that)
slowly diminish the concept of
as though the idea of ‘What Sticks?’
needn’t go beyond Honey and tape
as though lasting imprint is nothing more than
the remnants of your palm resting against newsprint
If my pen stroke is weighted:
my letters read like
physical map face.
G’s ape gulfs and gorges
the blank page reads as the Sea of C’s contemplating Deltas. Receding.
washed away shore lines
my verse fades in direct sun or rainfall
Oh, but my offspring (be it hat or child)
is just as fallible as me;
subject to tears & (heartache)
pulled string or vanishing semblance
I saw my name on pages in a book
I saw Art carve the book into Buddha face
What part stays?
Surely, when I run my footsteps follow but
like echoes softening off or