Flutter
There’s this luminous murk
see: how far the closeness seems?
As twere the distance in a dream
where all my fears lurk …
furious, lethargic
It must be chic’, we scheme
to build, thereafter we destroy
hoping none will be so bold,
or foolish, perhaps, to toy
with the irrefutable trick.
Pick up your eyes hands face
so into new forms may we flow.
Fears are simply curb & gutter
not curtains for the show:
we flutter for awhile, then go.
Michael Theroux
Michael Theroux writes from Northern California. His deeply published career has spanned botanist, environmental health specialist, green energy developer and resource recovery web site editor. Entering the creative writing field late in life at 72, Michael is now seeking publication of his cache of art writings which include two novels and perhaps 400 poems and short stories. Some of his shorter works may be found in Down in the Dirt, Ariel Chart, 50WS, Academy of the Heart and Mind, CafeLit, Poetry Pacific, Last Leaves, Backwards Trajectory, Small Wonders, The Acedian Review and the Lothlorien Poetry Journal.