TROUT   [5]

Gareth Shute: [1 , 2 , 3 ]
  None could judge the instant
when day turned to night

as formless as the space between the moment
and the thought of the moment

an unbridgeable gap.
We came close

in the heat of summer days
when the light was bent

into glimmering waterless pools.
Hope kept us questioning

but our faults were in the questions.
The answers could only live in the gaps

between the distinctions we created -
empty beyond nothing, full beyond everything - 

without contrast
the truth can exist

but we cannot.

  © 1998