Jon Nakapalau

apparitions chained by glance

days held fast by mesh of time

cast down with echo
fallen but provident

through rain and smoke
gifts of errant wind

you hold dust in your hands
eyes cast down

into blue shadows
that pool like quilts

only this holds it in deep place
past where so many have fallen

past your dreamful hopes
that were not really yours

how do you have something
when there is only the geometry of reflection

all stars fall across the canvas
that belongs to you

but that you will not see until covered with colored lies.