Filaments

thoughts spring out,
filaments of my soul
like an etch-a-sketch
in the hands of a child.

knobs turn in earnest
thoughts cross into
patterns, coalescing,
faster turning and turning and
almost
there almost
glimpsed!

as if I could just
step back
unfocus
and they would crystallize.
form
something.
tell me
something.

they don't.
a shake, two, and all is gone
but a faint gray web
to mar the surface.

over time that, too, is
subsumed.

A Mile in Four Laps

Gun
Blam! The starter's gun!
Twelve hungry men leap forward
Blaze through acrid smoke.


One
The Man leads them out
Elbows fly, jostling bodies
The Pack streams behind.


Two
A Rabbit jumps out
Another tight on his heel
The Pack compensates.


Three
Watch clicks and Coach grunts
Thundering down the back stretch
The Man plus two, rise.


Four
Ding-ding! The bell lap
Two surge, find another gear
The Pack gasps, splinters.


Tape
Desperate bodies lean
The finish tape snaps!
Floating gentle t'earth.

[kind of a haiku homage to Quentin Cassidy]

Titan

Wind's breath,
a moth flutters;
deep beneath
the earth shudders.

River's flow,
chaotic swirls;
out at sea
a tempest broils.

Far away
the Arch is shorn.
white clay falls.
a god is born.

[another rough idea, from late in a long run. some day I'll polish these up before posting and spare you all the sharp edges.]