Draw...

So know ~

The architecture,
Now drawn into the conversation, casts about, draws
A room vaulting overhead, itself, vaults
Through false arches,
A clever conceit.

Here, have a seat,
I say, do my level-headed best
To be hospitable.

“A moon struck me,”
Our architecture explains.

Yes, I reply, that’s possible
To see.

“And now, clearly,”
According to Asparagus, “You filter magic fairy dust,
Our illumination..

“No, you mean,”
Counters Arginine, hitherto unseen,
That feline concealed cleverly behind the curtain,
“A moon-struck illumination
Filters through the dust clinging to the windowpane.”

Alistair, now standing on the first
Stair, says, “A fine point, yes,
My dear.”

Meanwhile, Agitated and Denial
Dance…

And me, I
Ponder carefully my confusion, consider
This inane amusement, and fitfully
Call for an intermission.

But O, lo!
Before I go,
Please consider, thusly ~ This filtered dust,
This moon-struck illumination
Streaming through the windowpane, all this confusion
Spreading its blanket around
The Event…

How do we interpret these scenes,
This sense,
A simple sight-reading providing so few klews?

What’s Next?
What If
What’s not is?

And if so,
What if requirements lift,
As the mechanical
Descends,

Directs the action

From
A very odd repertory of contingent estranged
Solutions?

*

Or, if
Not. What?

~ * !
_______
Blog, or dog? Who knows.
But if you see my lost pup, please ping me!
http://journals.aol.com/virginiaz/DreamingofLeonardo