Dan Provost

Photo by Su Red

Never Seen

These things
Never seen

Want to be touched
But are whisked away

Into a wind of
emptiness—a spotless
Sense of road

Frowned upon
While great walls

House the terrible and the murky
Water flows down…so down

Things never seen behind
Old wood fences…mothers
Dresses held by clothes pins
On a warm October afternoon

Sun drifting fast but cannot be
Witnessed by those who will not understand.

These things never seen
Thought about, felt…
But never sighed and walked away with.

A slit in the early evening…

The tooth of an old man…

Dying after a lifetime of journeys.