After the Wrap
Call it the hypnotic pull
of icicles holding court
on a frigid window pane.
It’s like watching time dissolve
inside a Rothko expanse;
a wordless haiku
that requires no translation
in any known language.
A speechless actor
doesn’t need subtitles
when zoning out with eye clouds;
It’s a final print in empathy.
A quiet affirmation
of all that is understood
through the hushed crescendo
of time’s pungent haze.
Over scorched expresso
and sun dried Cuban leaves,
stalwart & understudy mime
off-screen improvs ad libitum;
call it widescreen telepathy.
©️Orion Foote
Visions of Orion Poetry 