...for
Amy Liptrot...
The labyrinth sinks
slowly through the red,
the
drowning men drift further from the shore ‒
the narrative of those
who went before ‒
as we remain behind to
mourn the dead.
Yet memory may reveal
what is unsaid ‒
the blue will give its
secrets up once more ‒
for every maze contains a
hidden door,
a clue, a key, a
long-forgotten thread.
And still the wild outrun
calls us home
to circle, hungry,
through the crystal night,
through fierce quick
tears, through salt and snow and stone,
to dance and blaze and
set the world alight.
The morning brings a rapt
and sober song.
The spiral leads us back
where we belong.
RJT
Spiral Jetty - Robert Smithson
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