The gingko, green fractal
reaching in the breeze–
there is geometry
in a quiet evening,
seen and unseen
structures–
the sky dimming
like a screen, still
blue, still blue,
and the arc of a jetliner,
the beams and girders
of the closest build site,
its lightbulbs, tungsten,
in metal cages, old
and comforting, just that
one room lit, not even a room
yet, a prototype, the lack
that comes before,
that emptiness that is
at the heart of everything,
call it potential,
or, a ghost
OPTIONAL POETRY 
Beautifully written. Loved the wordplay and the shapes and colors also stood out…there is an order and chaos everywhere…:)
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Thank you!
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Beautiful !
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Thanks!
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I really like this. The gentle cadence works well with the blossoming emptiness.
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Thank you!
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