Castle of Illusion
Land and sites engaged the illusion,
made perfect the wholeness, hiding
hollowness. Empty windows watched,
the Ego isolated within, disturbed.
Cairn of ancestors, bitter wind,
vacant feel part of its landscape,
our own psyche apart from it.
This blackout poem is based on a post, Hunting the Unicorn: Shells and Fruits,
written by Sue Vincent and posted at The Silent Eye. I encourage you to read it.
The image is an edited/layered version of two of Sue’s photos.
~~ Thank you to Sue for her inspiration and for graciously accepting my offering. ~~