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                                that

                                now,

                that finger of low cloud catching
                its silver border from the set sun hangs

                further before and further aft
                than the construction crane,

                                still

                and holding nothing, standing, perhaps
                it holds up the hills and islands

                behind which it reaches – misty
                girt the silhouette – but the world

                turns and the crane is now
                foreshortened

 

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–

clouds wormhole: ‘the Bat-Signal …’
crane wormhole: Plumstead – Woolwich – Plumstead 220211
hills & silver wormhole: fifty-eight // and silent prayers
mist wormhole: DANSE RUSSE by William Carlos Williams
silhouette wormhole: between
sunset wormhole: I don’t need to go out / onto the balcony to see behind me / to know what’s going on
world wormhole: thought

 

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