the way of all flesh 16

          roy herndon smith

awakening but
not getting up, lying flat
and still, on my back

eyes closed in the world
of resonating senses
the pain in my foot

dissolves in the hum
of the attic fan, the clank
of a garbage can

cuts from head to toe
the call of a mourning doveĀ 
falls in emptiness

i open my eyes
to light and darkness and forms
playing all in all