Blue Sky


The camera hovers
inches above my head
which must be kept flat
looking away
through the window.

Two lovers might do the same,
one scanning for a response,
one distant, eyes averted.

Thirty minutes to keep still.
Life has led to this and
a square of blue sky
but has not prepared me.

This cold blue sky barely concealing
the absurdity of infinity
has me wondering
at what point
and why
on time’s atomic clock
my particles came together,
and when I’m spent and
re-absorbed,
how long will my particles last.

It’s a pitiless blue sky offering
no response,
no doubt the same
a hundred years ago
in this hospital, nothing,
no solace for the wounded
back from the trenches.

The thirty minutes nearly up,
the camera has moved down
my body, silently
like a lover creeping away
for good,
and the actual panicky thoughts I had
have fled
and are impossible to retrieve.

© Nemo 2019
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critique and comments welcome.

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