Wendy Videlock


There is no such thing as collective consciousness!

Behold: one by floating one
they come, feather like, soft
and sweet, molecular and oh
so like-we unique,

melting at the child's cheek,
lighting on the tattered aster,
at the backs of wild trees,
chalking the slate, revising the field,

accumulating in our sleep,
clinging to the heresies
of silence and significance,
of gathered weight, and influence,

of sway, touch, alight, and word,
of seasonal law acquiring earth.