Issue 4 – Kristofco


John P. Kristofco

Easement

ideas come and go
like spiders on the filaments
            between
the time of too much light and sound
that fills our head like feathers
‘til we cannot see or hear
            and
midnight’s blinding dark
that finds our clumsy soul’s search
for anchor place to hold;

            before the windows close,
we wander in the space between the day and night,
temporary amnesty from the dark and light
to seek the spirit’s spiders, capture words
            to write