Deep in night long ago,
even before time was known to move forwards, darkness was absolute, indistinguishable
from the infinite. Shadows thrived during the day and hid away at night, some in the tops
of trees, others in the depths of the sea. Night shadows were inconceivable paradoxes. At
this time, Darkness and Silence ruled the night, king and queen, thriving together once
the sun sank. At dusk Darkness would always speechlessly greet Silence. They would
then roam the globe hand in hand until dawn broke.
Now even deep in night
shadows crawl vivid cobalt
over cobblestones and through
windowpanes, spilling radiant
geometries across the ceilings
and down to the floor in beams,
illuminating my bedroom, like
rays from an invisible sun.
Sometimes deep in night,
if I look carefully,
I can see Silence
at the foot of my bed,
weeping under the
cobalt, weeping over
the death of Darkness.
I. The Curve of Words:
seeps along the thousand bulbous glowing roads, asphalt swelling and deflating
underneath like lungs. With heavy purple, crawling the swollen surface of the earth.
Desperately roaming, exudes fading trails of slug-like secretions, of snakeskin-thin
shards, of dripping wound’s rusting blood, of burning hot ember tears, of lumber-littered
curving destruction, of milk-white grief. Indigo anxiety. Heartache. Love.
Pushes on, hopelessly fated to roam and fade, wither meaningless upon the finite
blacktop arteries of earth.
II. The Climb of Actions:
They are rising
They are absolute
Running high and white
Up the high road
Up and up and
Alexander Charnov, Age 16, Grade 11, Saint Ann’s School, Gold Key