Personal String Theory

by David B. Donlon

David B. Donlon has been a bartender, a window-washer, a singer/songwriter/musician, a teacher, and many other things besides -- but always a poet. He has recently begun publishing his work. He finds the internet to be a valuable resource for honing his craft (you can find him doing some 'honing' on rec.arts.poems) and for giving his work a place to live. Of poetry and the internet, Mr. Donlon says, " I have found I prefer the immediacy and informal nature of the WWW and I particularly like the many fine poetry sites that are springing up; I think it is a very exciting time to be a poet or a lover of poetry."

Personal String Theory

Across a moonlit parking-lot
The sparse winds of mid-winter blow pieces
Of crumpled paper and ruined leaves to eternity
While in the distance an engine starts.

A cloud of frozen exhaust gives away the
Starting point of one lone night traveler
And I see the red and white of her tail-lights
As she backs away, leaving a blank space

Between the rows of cars. There is a place
Now, a connection, where she is forever
Just going and I am forever watching, forever
About to look up into the expanse of stars and

Think how very like a star she is to me; remote
And unknowable. Like the static light images
That flow from stars, she and I forever expanding
Into greater and greater circles, together, alone,

Outward and away from one another.
Or do we here now shrink into the future?
That's just relative, I suppose. Either way I end
Up here in the frozen parking lot, wind battered.

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