Metal Guru

A diesel engine throbs in the blackness of morning silence
Fumes hit the buttons that transport you through time
To another morning in another life on the other side of the world

Polarised filings of past endeavour viewed through the prism of age
Filigree flavours remembered on perfumed timelines
Lubricate the cusp of the wave called now

The cold bites your mind through the soles of your boots
The morning is a sacrificial anode for your future self
A fact that cannot ally your shivering nor still your racing heart

Polaroid snapshots viewed through panes of obscured glass
These fragile anchors hold you fast against the maelstrom
The present keeps moving intangible mercurial metallic

Voices chant in the blackness of morning solitude
Mist hangs low in the field below the high school
Everything tastes of yesterday

December 2010

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