Alone and ignored,
rolled up like a napkin
in a French bistro, zoned
out to the blithe, unconditioned
air, measuring the breaths
of a caving fly, dripping rain, in
a word.
For in the tent the world loses
some of its power.
Rising through a web. Is it a Black Widow’s?
Beauty above. Beauty below. With everything
out of my breath, holding onto what we have.
Annihilated, leaving only a universal
clock. Unconscious of the changes.
George Cassidy Payne is a poet from Rochester, NY. His work has been included in such publications as the Hazmat Review, Moria Poetry Journal, Chronogram Journal, Ampersand Literary Review, the Angle at St. John Fisher College, and 3:16 Journal. George’s blogs, essays and letters have appeared in the USA Today, Wall Street Journal, the Atlantic, the Havana Times, the South China Morning Post, the Buffalo News, and more.