Mirage

Across the moor,
a curious glance away,
hangs a shimmering web.

Affecting innocence
in the vast somnolent night,
one point slowly merging
with the rest.
No warm conspiracy,
regret or pain,
just burdensome darkness
and lights in the rain.

The sodium sprawl
across the hills deceives,
for down amongst
the scattered jewels
- cubic zirconia
in the spider’s dewy net -
lie thorns and snags;
a trap
for those who loiter
among the filaments.

I see you all,
every one,
by TVs and computer screens.
Fighting
in bars and kitchens;
hurting
and being hurt;
trying, failing
and dying in the detail.

I am aloof.
Proof of the existence
of another world
outside of life;
beyond the sordid
downcast glow;
too distant
and intangible to know.

But I know you,
shimmering seductress.
Mirage,
washed from your slopes
by grey morning rain;
made false,
a trick of light;
or darkness?
extinguished
with the passing of the night.

You are decoration,
ornament,
superficial prettiness;
nothing more.
Be grateful.
Sparkle.
Sprawl across your hills.

Forget me.
Believe in something else;
something that you care about;
that cares for you.
Don’t waste time
on shadows
passing on the midnight moor;
on phantoms passing thru.