Fracture 93 


There, there I see you -

walking along the shoreline,

the sun is your companion.

I see something following you. 

The ocean wind is relentless

you continue walking into the headwind.

I see pieces of you fall away and in turn

the fragments begin following you.


I close my eyes and see a version of you

the you of another time.


Each fragment vibrates, wavelengths fluctuate

at times they balance in a peaceful state of radiant light.



The wind grows stronger with each step,

pieces of various sizes and color are removed


from the outer shell - I am exposed to what’s

beneath the surface and the way daylight


scatters, and I am in love with

you that I see and the prism of colors


your body and inner being exude,


I respect the turmoil you endure

to break through the layers and find you. 


Hesitation at the final obstacle where the land

falls to the sea and there is no known path


across the valley.  A pause as the wind relents,   

its power stacking as pebbles and stones


are caught in the vortex, the vibration of

streams, the debris circling, waiting.


From this distance, I do not know what she may be

looking at or for, what her intentions are, or


where she will next step.  I see the wind

growing impatient,


time passes and with reluctance, unease or

confusion from this new reality, you


raise arms and gather fragments from a distance

and place them one by one before you, creating


a multi-colored, vibrating bridge

over the raging river


violently tossing fallen trees and

icebergs at canyon walls. 


The bits of fragment you chose to keep

lead to a new level of consciousness.


Others fell into the river and others

were discarded to the sea.


On the other side you are able to move

more freely, as burdens and weight


have been lifted, the mind more aware

of the being it communicates with.


The stone path you now stand upon

leads north into the mountains and


through the path you will arrive

at the ancient forest where I have been waiting. 



The child stares into the mirror of the adult

he is to become and both wonder why.


the adult sees a child running through

sand ahead of the waves and the look

of amazement when birds take flight


the child sees an adult lost

black eyes cold and the look

of bewilderment when he realizes

the path from here,


the only way forward,

the choices that lie ahead.


how do I get through the mirror?


the child sees a stray dog

and runs, chasing it into the water.

the adult sees a stray man

and plans to run, escape this life.


events begin to play upon the mirror

and the adult can only watch and remember.


thinking back to the one moment

the planted seed took root

the forked road vanished beneath black dirt.


only the shadow is visible in the mirror.


an outstretched hand reaches for

the other as lights fade away

and the mirror shatters. 


William Ricci is a writer of experimental poems and essays about nature and awareness with publishing credits that include: A View from the Loft, The Edge, Whistling Shade, Paper Darts, Primalzine, Whispering Angel, Kinship of Rivers, Seven Circle Press, Misty Mountain Review, Teesta Rangeet, and Lief Magazine.  He is also the poetry editor for The Edge magazine and founding editor of Stone Path Review.   He can be reached at