Today a strange metallic light descended from on high 


In rays of cool hard glinting. 


I took a long brisk walk along the path 


And felt the sweat just oozing, 


The cool and clammy skin radiating back to the sky 


What had previously descended, 


A hard reflecting surface, a silver mirror without depth. 


And everything seemed artificial, 


The plastic leaves lying low beneath my feet, 


The nylon grass bending and bouncing back. 


The trees were papier mache and cardboard filled with chicken wire. 


The water like gray-green painted paper cut in waves, the cotton clouds pasted on the azure, 


The circle of tin coloured yellow glides across the blue plaster of heaven. 


And stuffed puppets on strings danced by, 


The bounding squirrel and slinking snake, 


The awkward staring people stiffly marching, their eyes like glaze. 


This is the world without you in it. 


It was good to feel the pain in my muscles and the creaking of my bones 


Good to strain at breathing and pull the tendons in my hips and knees. 


I see a jagged piece of cardboard wood, a phony nail sticking from the drawn in knot. 


I step on it slowly and drive it through my heel 


A wounded Achilles weary of struggling against a world I cannot feel. 


But with closed eyes I can make it real and bleeding. 


For a moment I imagine I’m in pain and can perhaps begin to see you smiling. 


Too soon awake, the pain and you both fading, 


With open unblinking eyes, I walk briskly back along the asphalt path.