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Beyond Days
By Patrick Boyd
21st CenturyYou live on as a ghost,
trapped in the camera shutter's flicker,
in a plane of silver nitrate; a glittering sea, frozen vertically; chromatic on my wall.
My days unfold like razors
to reshape and undo everything
I believe myself to be.
My world is the ephemera you ride above
in seamless continuity.
How I envy your unchanging smile,
your eyes, which peer out
over an endless quietude.
Your sorrow does not recede.
Nor does it engulf you.
It is simply the shadow light
that gives to permanence
its sweet contour
and inviolable center.
I could take you from my wall
and smash you, the glass bits
flying in a splash of crystalline tears,
but something in your vision
would still look out
beyond days and the fallen architecture
of dashed stars,
and simply know itself to be,
while I live on in doubt's fragility.
DayPoems Poem No. 1687
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