After Kit Kelen’s A Map of the Village

over the page
a mirror
to fall through
onto an orchestral map
a safe place
for crooked days
practising moments
to fall rough
critical moments
over borders
the village map
rising
like a flowering world
suddenly awake

Wilderness

wilderness
a map full of inlets
dark as film noir

twinkling lights
the whispering quiet
under the stars

derelict house
out of focus doorways
where things crumble

we ache for leaves
the still glassy water
this wilderness

it explodes
under the radar
riffing on words

precious jewels
words on white paper
lost in the clouds