187 Tonight, undressed, asleep, I saw through my eyelids, shut, Yellow, fluffy flowers in my room -- of the kind I'd never Seen. Room reminded of amnesia, no dust, no past, Empty and dysfunctional, nowhere, though I called it shelter, I called it mine. Geometry dominated lines. Yellow was the only color, fluff was the only tactile Sensation. In no time flew in, from no space outside, Yellow, fluffy birds I'd never seen. I knew in an instant They were drawn in by flowers -- not by their seeds, but by Their affinity -- caught by the yellow which under fingers Was felt to be but fluff (though alien in form and kind To each other were they -- more than flora to fauna, stillness To motion.) Still tomorrow, morning or not, I wake Up to see through the impervious polychrome -- doors and windows Intact, and lids in place, and laces in shoes, and hair Brushed Ė to see, to touch the yellow fluff of your eyes, my fingers Canít reach but feel, as if my eyes are still shut, my space Fired by yellow Flickering but Fleeing.


Confined Verse
Collected Poems