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Robert VaughanForesightTo follow the lineMeans tracing a circle,Spinning out as it cycles downReturning to different placesEach time the sameMoments undisturbedBy footsteps in the twilit hall.Echoing only the silencesOf previous passagesForgetting everything rememberedThe rings tightenSpinning me from room to roomFollowing the footstepsSounding just aheadAround the spiraling bend.And if I grasp the oneRounding that next cornerLay my hand upon his shoulderAnd pull him round to face meI will look him in the eye againFor the first timeThenI can tell him of dark spacesOpening up beneath his feetAs we fall together.99
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