351 Beyond

There is a veil, pale thing,
gossamer and corn silk,
woven by Others into the
concrete air we breathe.
If we are reckless, or blessed,
we might meander through,
feeling only the tender touch of
some floating web across our cheek
and wonder were its anchor lies.
Then, for a brief tick of the clock
or a life time, we may stand in awe,
knowing we are not where we ever were before.
The clues are brief but legion.
A giggle echoed in a fire flys flash.
A split seconds sighting of one winged pair
to many in a swarm of spiraling ephemera.
A breeze shaped profile of a wizened face
in a maze of maple leaf lace.

We are safe, surely,
coddled in this swaddling,
caressed by this fragility.

But then, in a twinkling, the familiar beckons us home.
The passing car,
the neighbors dog,
the reminder of our shopping list:
dozen eggs
gallon milk (2%)
london broil

We slip back through in time for supper,
a fading memory our only souvenir.

About Ken Greenman

Married and Happy. Retired and busy. Living in NC. 71 and counting. December 12, 2020 and it's 72! ... I would love some written comments, critiques, adulation or kind suggestions.... If you have the time and or inclination, please feel free! Not in fear but by faith. We will see. See you later! If you ever want to talk for real, email me and I will send you my cell number.... I am enjoying this!
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