And So the Skyclimber Climbs
The candles burned to mask the smoke
lingering in the air. He was certain
he’d been in this room before,
though it reeked of unfamiliarity.
He continued on through interconnected taverns
that wound upward toward the sky.
Each passing story flashed old photographs
into his mind, only to dissolve and then
reproject themselves as stars in the sky.
Unclear how high the stories went
on and on he scurried. Up above, he swore,
lay reality; down below was just a past
that begged a sniff of upward mobility.
march two thousand seven
rewrite and recording
december two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved