Still Life
At the door he stood, for a moment in the dark.
It appeared as though a great pause had set in,
A pose had been struck.
Imagine being an object in the dark, in the cold.
A part of the landscape, a piece of the architecture.
Movement ceases, frost sets in.
Life moves around you, trouble and passion are gone,
Pain and discomfort are not viewed.
Love and apprehension are not remembered.
Stillness, a facade you have become,
A piece that touches life but life does not touch.
Still life, still…
© Joseph James from 'White Night'
12-1-00
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