This page is cool light and my shadow’s
hovering vague shape from the window behind
defining hazed distances I’ve come from —
childhood, a city. You could guess my position,
undefined and remote as the nearby pre-settlement hills.
The mind behind the particular mind may be thus:
uncleared, unsettled, mysterious
enough to look into constantly, while passing a window
or else, as now, to turn my back on
and let these passing words settle on the unmapped page.
© Andrew Sant