Ruth Carneson


In a house of ghosts and shadows
a tunnel opens up into an endless space

I find a platform in the dark
among the ghostly images

I grab hold of a shadow to anchor myself
As I slip and fall I shout

and fall into formlessness
swirling colours and unknown gasses

A table is laid with a feast
It disappears and reshapes

I glimpse familiar faces
Before I have time to remember the image changes

The face changes into a bird
but the bird does not fly away as I expected


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