The frost performs its secret ministry
unhinged by any part. I can’t
recall a single day as any thing
beyond a spectacle of loss. One
has the instant almost held of course
and one has the bliss of ignorant
forgetfulness—but who is that
and what of any of it now—it is
come to facts and facts do not exist
in company to selves—they are a
sheen of details on the lens of one
blank window bordering the inside with the out…
having early left one never can
relive the prior instant or relieve
the action of its consequence.
Man, being timely, sticks in time
no counterpart alternative survives
just the memory, receding with each play
of counterfactual chances—ghosts
that never walked the house
haunt everyday.
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Author Bio: Martin Corless-Smith was born and raised in Worcestershire, England. Two of his books were published in 2015: Bitter Green, from Fence Books, and This Fatal Looking Glass, from SplitLevel Texts. He teaches Creative Writing and Literature at Boise State University.