Tuesday, February 12, 2013


Long, large gowns dragging white mulch along with their hems,
eyes darting ritual sparks behind masks in swirls of white,
another whirlwind of picturesque laughter for the umpteenth postcard home,
while corteges of masks strew on, strew on, it’s their task and song,
gazing, disguising, cruising on this very life’s lace surface,
I wonder..( wondering is what I have been doing most as a ghost-host)
I wonder if faces love just being hidden at all costs
or if they would rather prefer being definitively lost…
but it’s this white quilt rising underfoot that recalls the last hiding post.


Dave King said...

Wow, this I find most intriguing. It gives a wonderful, weird and - yes - carnival sens with just a hint of menace - which probably comes from me. It leaves such room for the reader's imagination. Fine, fine, fine!

Tommaso Gervasutti said...

Dear David...yes there is certainly a hint of menace -but it doesn't by any means come from you!
It comes from my city, Carnival and the snow. Yesterday evening one simply stumbled about and bridges were sliding trampolines. Powerful waterproof boots were a must...one could slosh his/her life away!

Crafty Green Poet said...

Snow adds a definitely intriguing atmosphere to carnival!

Kass said...

Very nice. I like the idea of being definitively lost