Metallic Poem by Elaine Equi
Metallic
A gong is struck
in the temple of a dream
signaling
change.
On the bare stage
of a bare room,
some that are not there, come.
Others not there, go.
While we in the audience
assume new positions, ideas.
Like a spear, the sound travels
through the night
and next day—reverberates
still—a subtle difference
more felt than heard,
but distinctly.
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4/18/2024 7:35:25 PM # 1.0.0.1119
