...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.
Spiral Jetty - Robert Smithson