Poem- The Echoes return slow

The poet scans the stars
and the Scientist his equations.
Life, how often must I
be brought round to confront

my image in an oblique
glass ? The spirit revolves
on itself and is without
shadow, but behind

the mirror is the twin helix
where the dancing chromosomes
pass one another back
to back to a tune from the abyss.

From The Echoes return slow


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