By Richard Mather
The air is full of images
-- hyperreal simulacra --
film-like pictures
streaming from surfaces
of objects and organisms.
Atomic replicas
of this tree, that bird,
your face, my hand.
Images of so rare a texture
-- so easily torn --
move through air and glass:
a persevering flow,
traversing at wing-light speed
of light, the speed of thought,
until they make contact
with an eye, provoking vision.
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