The clean clear line
you have drawn
between points
begins to
disappear-reappear
in the rhythm of
distance-time
distance-time
distance-time
distance-time
the spaces between boxcars,
a linear code
missing its dots
half its words.
Spaces stretch
interpretation
suffers. There is
a tipping point
where suffers
becomes loss
or a new interpretation
on the other side of the point.
http://youtu.be/RPz6q0s-N2U
Poetry on the run 
Precious Friend!
This is so high, I must beg you to be allowed to hang a bit more on your left leg still available through the clouds, even though I have a sneaking suspicion of being a deeper thought stirred by a rather simple view of something…
Otherwise loved it:-)
Rom (your mortal follower:-)
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Rom, I believe you are right about the simple view…it may be as simple as a loss offering an opportunity, opening a door, presenting one with new options..
This poem was sparked by my thoughts on “Silence of the lamps…” and especially your answer to Katrina regarding the choice we must decide to make. Does one choose to let an ending be final or a reason to reinterpret?…so now it is I who follow you 😉
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