FIFTH WALL

 THE FIFTH WALL

Empty pages, empty canvasses
stare , draw you in.
A willing suspension of disbelief.
The walls collapse, build up again;
the roof flies away.
I lie on a wall
like a cat at noon
basking in the shaft
of a broken sunlight, a broken beam.
Houses, seen against the sky,
in the twilight gleam,
in the aroma of time,
letters scribed
on fluttering leaves...
There are people living,
merging with life
living, feeling inside the veins,
soaking rains, sunlight and the pain
of loving without a name and a face.
The canvas calls them and they flee
in despair; the walls around them crumble
and they startle back, stare back
at the life they lived, no longer a secret;
the willing suspension of disbelief.
Archaeological sites
brought into relief.
The collapse of the fourth wall, then the third,

the second, and the first one is the last fall.
How do I build the fifth
to capture it all again?



Man Lying On A Wall  :  L. S. Lowry
image credit: +Kostas Michalis