Memory Cycles
Within a room suspended
Strung like a pearl
On a wire of time
Stretched between stars
And breathing heavily.
Lost perhaps and forgotten
From fields and cities
Above the murmur of intellect
Quiet in solitude.
Remembering new memories
Of wild winter skies
Stretched weeping on cold rock
Naked wet skin.
Old man, white beard.
Soft child of the sun.
Dark wolf headed walker
In the paths of death.
©2014 Jim Carroll
(1968)
