No not in Marble Canyon where rippled
rock resembles melting chocolate and
vanilla…not Markarfljot’s streaked, crippled
glacial river…uninhabited land
barren black and bordered like honeycomb
in Bolivia…nor in deep crystal
meltwater of Antarctica…just come
with your spirit to that invisible
place beneath my brainstem…celestial light
calming my breathing, eye movement, frail
body balance…now you know why at night
when I grow silent…when I stare and fail
to move…seem not there…the Muse…you see…schemes…
turns your words to insight…leads me to dream…
Roger Armbrust
September 18, 2020
