unknowable

when I wake with fog draped all around

the view drawn close

mysteries emerge from shadows

magic flickers

spirits rub up against me

I wonder if the sun will burn away promises

like kicking covers off of a warm bed

or if this is a day for embracing

what we can’t see

holding onto feelings that never begin or end in clarity

but dissolve from or into a place that’s always just out of reach

unknowable as your thoughts when I reach out my hand

unknowable as any tomorrow

 

 

David Trudel         © 2015

 

 

on foggy days

each rock makes promises

broken by waves

 

David Trudel    (c)  2014

 

fogdrifts

fogdrifts

lift and pull

veiling now

then screaming into

forever

 

lights in the distance

haloed

and then whoosh

goodbye fellow traveler

let me bless your journey

into my past

while I blow through yours

 

on a subliminal level

each environmental cue

prompts reflexive jumps

into defensive awareness

 

self-destructive

 

shedding ego I open

my eyes to alternative possibilities

of destruction

involving me or not

 

cases

may be

made

 

 

David Trudel       ©  2014

 

 

 

fogwalk

skykissed, the earth seems shy

muffled by a ragged net of condensed cloud

everything goes quiet

 

earlier it burned off

now it rolls in off the straits

leeching colours and shortening views

 

each drop holding a cemetery scent of early dawn

when spirits slide sideways into the melt

each drop a stitch in the shroud

 

this fog sleepwalks through empty rooms

while shadows punch slivers of distraction

into softsilvered rivers

 

each drift a tangible intangible

never quite in reach

never quite vanishing

 

floating wordlessly

with all the effort of nothing

drafting tailwinds of an idea

 

 

David Trudel   © 2013

 

 

it’s colder

time for another layer

it’s colder

evenings have become nights

walks turn into mysteries

sounds or shadows

ready to pounce

or disappear into recesses

better forgotten

unfocus away

nightviews an intervention

electrified horizons

unroll blueprints of a thousand streets

under muffled obscurity

it’s colder

there are mysteries in margins

fog rolls

growing into something

unknowable

 

 

David Trudel       ©  2013

 

 

Fog

Slipping into and out of this dream

Stateless

Where reality bleeds into fantasy

Like fog on the water when the margins disappear

Gray on gray

My consciousness is that ambiguous

In this non-moment

One drop that neither falls nor ascends

Holding the promise of the universe

An ocean within a realization

Waiting for gravity or perhaps evaporation

For a moment of transcendence

From discretion to completion

From point to pointless

To oneness with everything

In this stateless dream

Where the margins disappear

Along with the horizons

And there is no other place to look

Except within

 

David Trudel   ©  2013