TO LINGER By Bob Paris

This hank of life that waits on none

More than a glance shimmered across

Wire and coupling that hold a heart such

As mine together along switchback trails

Into clouds that ring mountaintop and down

Among volcanic coolness held in a whispered

Fault line that bears no image of fault

Or reason or impulse or single explanation

Nor belief nor doors flung open by wind

Made visible and haunting inside

Swirls round to find a mind unstilled

By steady race of pulse and blood and light

And pause in which to linger

TO LINGER

By Bob Paris © 8.25.2015