escher poetry — [ζ] :: 5

returning to the ruins of youth
torn down castles of arrogance
distorted memories in vine
turning the non–existent
to clarity of trumpian fake truth

all i really have are not precise bricks
tumbled by erosion
but the memory of feeling
tentacled to presence
joyful surprise recognition

but today
my wife is in a land elsewhere
urgent hospital

we agreed to this distance of weeks
never expecting