tom taylor

outsider in

lurker from the dark lagoon beyond the reach
of eventide no matter in his mists the lunge to
history or presence somehow evades into an
ancient skirting of shadows and cities on map

reserved for other touches on the dark aside
the trail through the mountains to the other
side of light where the nocturnes commit a
detail into the myth and passage beyond this

into other layers on the spirit line which are
somehow not torn or shattered but speak in
tongues of fire wherein days formed like this
foray into a newer unknown self that lives on