Piercing the darkness
Can guide me through
The rocky shoals
how a brush stroke
or a phrase
can create
an icon
how few lines
or words
are required
to tell a story
and how every story
and every icon
means something different
to everyone
A roiling plume
Like my mind
As I’m buffeted
Not so steadfast
As the rocky peaks
I find the steel
Within
To go on
A narrow draft
‘Tween reef and land
One red one green
The channel marked
At night
Her light
Bright green
Is seen
Green on the port
To find the port
Green to starboard
Then sail the seas
Though here demurred
Occluding smoke
Smothers valley’s depth and scale
Still, upon a closer look
The trees, a ridge
A jagged line
And then another
Slight serrated edge
The third and fourth both smoother still
So scale restored
I can imagine depth, at least
As this choking smoke occludes my breath
And then there is I
So different still
From all the rest
Or so
I like
To think