The Perfect Circle Of The ‘Everyday’

The perfect circle of the ‘everyday’ 
arches up, over and around 
so light can eternally meet 
the join of dark.

The empty glass fills 
and empties 
with unnerving constancy. 

There is a rhythm beyond us,
behind us and far ahead.

A calm conductor 
points their baton 
poking measure into the corners
of each section of the overture of time, 
freeing tiny silver triangles from 
forwards momentum
of hours, minutes and seconds.

I go here to dig beneath the surface, 
spending time raking around in those shapes, 
aware of the sound of metal on tarmac. 

Because this is where the magic lies.

I always know it when I see it. 

I soon stand, pockets bursting with stars,
stretching to look up at the sky.

© Katie Whitehouse 2021