Vanishing Point

By Ross Smith

Rolling down the tracks towards some distant point,
Coming closer,
Coming closer.
The vanishing point.
That place in the distance.
Now in the middle distance.
Now in front of me.
The vanishing point.

Where I cease.

Just like the beginning.
Where I popped into the world.
The world did not exist before that.
I guess… It won’t exist after.
I’m a photo on the wall.
Well past my vanishing point.
Converging lines.


2 thoughts on “Vanishing Point

  1. I’m struck by the movement in the first stanza – a clear sense of something coming toward me. The second stanza reflects the vanishing of a life, which is a depressing unhappy thought. You could add something hopeful, but I’m not sure that would be the tone you were looking for.

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