From This End

I sleep six days for every one I open my eyes.
I take pictures and then run three days from the source.
Fiction fixes place in time when fact is fleeting,
and all reality's a vanishing point
at the end of a long line of roadside poles.

At least that's how it appears
on the other end of a pen, a lens,
from behind a particular pair of binoculars,
in the news and financial reports,
on the calendar three Sundays from now
where the crow goes long.

Comments

[pepektheassassin]

A fine poem! I especially like the last three lines of the first stanza!

[tumblewords]

Lots of depth in here - layers I love.

[...deb]

Nice take on perspective.

I don't "get" the last line. But it doesn't matter--I like the words.

[Constance]

I love the first line, it sets the mood, and the second line just dragged me along and plunged me headfirst into the rest of the poem. Nice!

[Regina Clare Jane]

I love your poetry, Schmutzie...
it always makes me think... and that's good.

[SquareTraveler]

You never fail to astonish me. You're jaw-droppingly gifted.