I ghost through silent corridors weightless,
lifted by the helium of poetry and laughter.
Doors slide and cool autumn shivers my skin.
The departing sun steals the palette of this place
to paint the dawn on the far side of the world;
settling grey light wraps me in softness.
The freeway joins two halves of me
with a city and an estuary between.
On a river of carmine gliding North
in calm serenity I metamorphose;
the singular becomes a part, donning
a regrown chrysalis.
After Class by Penelope Walker is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
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