Rooftop View

 

Emily Dickinson did not reside here, where leaves kiss shadows and eaves whisper about summer to the remains of grit that gets washed away in the rain of cloud convictions. Yeats never told her about the window that looks back at the reflected trees. So why is it that they seem to be waving at the camera in a poetic frenzy of twisting line breaks, like an uneven stanza, a stratification of emotional confusion ?

 

Here are Pareidolia Parasols

for high wire walkers

&

roof repair workers

in the bright sun,

as rays of certainty hurl down upon their heads,

with the verity of gravity’s grasp.

Unwanted facts, quickly approaching –

from the shouting horizon –

brings on vertigo in existential deniers .

 

Too much emotional distortion

rises in the air,

as the refractive index

causes truth to bend

when it enters and exists in opinionated thoughts –

unsteadily seated on peaks & gable corners,

angry convictions shout

at laughter running across the green lawns.

 

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4 thoughts on “Rooftop View

    1. Thanks Olga. Yes, the times are full of bent truth. Can not believe the damaging nonsense coming out of Washington and the Brexit mess in the UK. Media Technology’s gift has been turned into the Age of Disinformation by a bunch of hate mongers & social media trolls.

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