Ca-tung... Ca-tung... <br /> <br />the slip of rain across the bent corrugated metal rooftop of the shed <br /> <br />down across those waters, an infinity of microscopia - a colony of <br />unseen critters spinning their home into a slowly evaporating universe <br /> <br />ca-tung... ca-tung... <br /> <br />we gather, bright and brave, before this onslaught of time to trade in... <br />what we've remembered - parsing and twisting ourselves into cyberworlds <br />that pixelate, melt, and return back into neuron and transistor infused light. <br /> <br />ca-tung... ca-tung... <br /> <br />the world is young again - <br />earthlight once again greets the eyes of a soul that will have forgotten, <br />and will have to relearn... language, locomotion, and the subtleties <br />of bathroom etiquette. <br /> <br />ca-tung... ca-tung... <br /> <br />metal reverberates remembrances, made plural, now tastable, effervescent, <br />mischievous, and utterly free to slip away again. <br /> <br />ca-tung... ca-tung...<br /><br />Michael Joseph Ferguson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ca-tung-ca-tung/
