Many years ago, Vicki and I were in a museum, when we came upon a series of art pieces with one word on each framed image. I thought we could emulate that with Vicki’s images and a complete stanza of poetry on each one. So, as part of a group show with other artists, with Home as the subject, we created 4 works for the 4 stanzas in a sonnet.

As we approach peak darkness, the reticence to venture out after dark increases, which delights our dog, but slows us down after an active summer and autumn. I think this poem makes the connection between a simple home and a complex universe.

The Shifting of One’s Home

The salt memory of sound reverberating besides the fold,
kinship responding to the cry of the now,
delinquencies of the past, neutrino narratives,
alabaster coronation of each new morning.

Each slice of time speaks of the betrayal of gravity,
as indeterminate as time zones in heaven,
unable to squeeze one more number into infinity,
the roundness of time, as superfluous as sanity.

Darkness mitigates the epicenter of every miracle,
light, a perfect condiment for all things that contain joy,
original dust speaks with the tongue of Socrates,
and magic found only upon the wind.

The glow from every window reveals their secret,
the connection of home to shadows on the moon.