My job as a software developer brings me into contact with (more than I care for sometimes) the buffering animations representing the loading of data into memory. These animations although probably indicating some problem or inelegance with the code, also allows tiny windows for day dreaming. Memory and dreams get a chance to bloom in the silent centre of their hurricanes for a few seconds or minutes.


In the dark of memory

following the thread of scent

each step lights up

climbing the spiral staircase

that never ascends

a tiny piano wrapped into a ring

the last played note

fading as the next flares

the glissando

circles the silence


a comet chasing its tail

round the circumference

a flat-lined heartbeat

defying its plateau

bending its horizon

expanding and contracting

a sighing accordion

playing the one note it remembers

A finger round the rim of the wine glass

searching for the held note

that will crack you

open you into silence


a circle of circles

an expedition seen from above

emerging and disappearing

through the same door

time travellers

caught in a wormhole

always returning

to the same space-time

pinball ball bearings

never to go ballistic

fired into the universe

never to helter skleter

following the stripe

of the Fibonacci swirl

never to hold hands

to whirlpool down

to expire together

into the black-hole

of the plughole

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