DRAWING LINES,
A Poem of Destination
Black lines overhead
Divide the blue
With unseen power.
These lines do not
Draw a picture
But stretch beyond
Our vision
To places of others.
We send our lines
Away on pages
Full of words
Made of letters
Which are lines
Bent
Like the ones
In our palms.
All these lines
Are
Like a grid
That leads us
Across the map,
We follow them
Until
Our lines cross
On
The globe of our lives,
And that intersection
Changes us from
Lines to forms.
(c) Adron 5/2/18
