Space Closed

There is a space
that floats formless
and flagrant
in sibilant
silence

There is a space
that floats formless
on a street
where disconnect
drifts attempting inveigled
purchase in
the imagined loneliness
of a singular footfall
walking ankle deep
in word fall

There is a space
that fills with the
torrent of remembered
richness, the soaked sunburst
joy of individual collective
inspiration
dandelion dust dancing
from each blossom burst
and caught
on a fingertip
inhaled in the
crisp fresh breath
of a new fall day

Where there are words
that can be no disconnect

Space closed