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                                       Parallax

Spun the whitetops around them

     Like dancers, the axis forming

     Of one instance wherever one

Should look : the laying of sight

     Made the point where all of it

     Would pirouette, for as long

As the look remained static.

     So that in looking one set a

     Dance in motion contained in

Itself and ephemeral as will.

The bridge ran out, the last

Spokes converging fluidly to

A point out of sight below the

Lower frontier of the window,

     A figurative vertice.

     The trees came on like sleep.

     The canopy was high as if our

Conveyance had fallen below the

Surface of a lake that remained

Nonetheless visible far over us,

Passing through the conjugations

Of a regular mutation, as ageless

                                          As smoke.