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Long Drawn

In the long drawn dawn awakened by a maniac shout
Rippling fractal tides come in to turn you inside out,
Time is everywhere and yet doesn't do anything yet
Here we are and where we were will still be or
Be able to bear bare palms to the fire that burns too close
The door implodes, the chapter written off the long lost page
Is found to be lost for better or worse, good enough for a simple guess
Suppose there are ways around the corner sharpened point
Protrudes like an old familiar toothache through the canebrakes
Mandrake roots hollow you home weaving a mantra for all alone
Awakened by a maniac shout, in the long drawn dawn.

Poetry by Chaucer Whethers