POEMS OF DAVID WILEY     


TO A PIECE OF PAPER

 

Here is the landscape of all possibility,

whiter than the obverse of ether.

Here is the window of a universe unborn,

where the mind's fugitive seed

seeks a hidden orifice of Creation.

Here is the battlefield,

here is the scented bed;

here is the palace,

dazzling in its lack of plumage,

where something unknown

wants to live. 

 


All images and text copyrighted.  All rights reserved.    Copyright 2002 David Wiley.