Servant

No waiting without servants
a lot vanishes without hesitation
change is like a spiral
in the maelstrom of adaption
I walk through so many archways
without any names

Across the bridge
I do not cherish a dream
alongside the river without a face
following the day of becoming
there is being adrift from understanding
with chasms in between

Hundred steps to the uncertain
and one word alone
falls like clay to the ground of henceforth
pierces the varnish of quicksilver
and tosses me into the world
that was supposed to be a long time ago

(c) David Boventer