Jan G. Otterstrom F.

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DAY 1


Sitting there in blank stare
crouched on a curb, smoldering
cigar in his black hand
swollen ankles supported by
plastic sandals,  crest fallen calm
resignation to another day
sea against its shore, limit to
the wanderer, muffling, ardent song
bent heads move to better shade
from one bench to an other
choosing a vantage point, vividness
of perspective, though truth is
independent of the appliance
of our vision. Broken lines, words
phrases accumulating, taken from
thought, impressions jotted, pieces
of a puzzle, spread out arms
extended as a cross, crucifixion
in a shape: buried in clean sheets
holy shroud preserves the vestige
of my past or an invisible breeze
billowing in sheer curtains.
Discovering arrangements, parts
of the whole, order evolving
the unknown waited for
an emptiness never to be filled.

c) Jan G. Otterstrom F.
    December 2009
    La Habana, Cuba