Between us then throbbed,
An aisle full of blank
With templates of questions all set.
But I who had fumbled in stairs without lights,
Lost all my ladders to the bridge.
Haltered with clauses that never reach a close,
I stumble and puzzle amid punctuation marks
And leave all my wonder on stations I've left
And linger with abdicated grace.
Tottering on ledges full of unwelcome moss,
I re-live my dreams amid harbours of dross.