Hushed Ambience

so taut
it would snap
brittle sonorities
into a thousand fragments
of sprechgesang
murmuring hushed epithets
through spiny thistles
laced into a grid
over an orange-blue nimbus
smashing atoms in
a dry-brushed textural milieu
much too vague
for sentiment’s unctuous touch
seeking flight in
remote conjecture beyond
fantasy’s febrile domain
vaguely among us
for the straitened interval
prolonged a moment too long
for pilgrims’ idyl
carelessly displayed in the
carefree array of
asymmetrical sequence