Spirits Into Frames (From, Poet On Www) Poem by Peter S. Quinn

The thoughts for every day,
Among the lines we follow;
This and that we got to say,
Some of those words are hollow.
Those words of yes and no,
Appearances of some names;
Getting lost on the on the go,
Putting the spirits into frames.

Between which and what to show,
Disappearance of some words;
What they do - what they know,
Every thought there afterwards.
Trees of names some unreal,
Syllables together in love;
Keeping it on - how it might feel,
What comes down or moves above.

Silences rest in every sound,
Dissolving what you are seeing;
Sometimes in text nothing's found,
Only the real time being.
Foliage of footsteps of the past,
Drowned in the passion of text;
What will go on - what will last,
Present generations are all indexed.