After the Show

A frenetic push is past,

the surge wicks into a void,

blossoms shrivel and cringe

at the mouth of an abyss.

The artifacts: an evidence,

memory a heartsick bliss,

an addiction to creation’s  kiss,

the au revoir of an empty nest,

a saudade, a bon voyage,

goodbye, all going, gone,

left to their own…

leaves let go,

coming to rest.

Let go…let go…let go…

a season’s stretch set,

a layer of strata

in sandstone.

And on, and on and on,

and a billion years

of buried bones,

spinning into the abyss,

bathing in waves

of creation’s kiss.

–Benjamin Higbee Oct. 17, 2010

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