navigate by the stars

humanity finds itself in the position of a captain whose ship has been built so strongly of steel and iron that the magnetic needle of its compass no longer responds to anything but the iron structures of the ship; it no longer points north.
---Heisenberg

Snow, drift.
Down.
far, darkly
into the night.

Or to the sea.
Weightless.
Relinquish your love
of Earth.

Snow, striking
like the cold fever
of burning suns
in your eyes.

Snow, holding
the lost future,
like a shimmering face
with blank expression.

It/you falling
generally particularly
in ever-widening angles
obliquely into oblivion

White, fall.
like a spell.
Erase my name now,
from your still heart.

~~~

Drift, Autumn,
drift;
fall, colours,
where you will.
---Auden.

They drift about the darkening city squares,
coats blown in evening winds and fingers feeling
familiar holes in pockets, thinking: Life
has always been a counterfeit, a dream
where dreaming figures danced behind the glass.
---Denise.

the art of drifting is not an art, unless the dark movements of the blood were not an inheritance but a kind of pattern that one could know. as if to say, "as if to say". the drift from grey to gold, and back again. to gold seen and felt in the immediate everyday...

drifters are losers, because they lose themselves.