Gap 

Rickety jittering ancient flick 

one time by my dad with old kodak 

made way back in fifty-six shows 

scenic semidecrepit indescript old 

maids side by side 

in rowboat wearing baggy black 

smiling eyeless 

from beneath broad hats not far from rocky scotchpine 

shore of lake at oldtime resort. 

Then a film lacuna occurs 

and they're seen again in grinning 

glee rowing rapidly like children 

in slowmoving twirl compared to straightline voyage away before this hiatus of recording came. 

The who and the when within this ten 

second clip split by an instant 

were always complete unknowns yet 

smiling to camera seemed completely unknown too to them as was twirling in boat like slowmo ride as if 

by carnival self imposed 

At time and place when rare fun and games 

meant dutiful waves and smiles at strangers like carriaged ladies in parades in horseclop's quieting hint 

of silence holding gap between 

noisy brass of redclad marching bands. 

Or the odd discomfit space between 

Rylant's movements two and three 

of his opaque last symphony 

of aught eight, e minor opus 

forty-seven, that misconstrued 

silent nontransition betwixt 

adagio and allegretto 

wedged in by double allegro 

of unmarked unremarkably 

bland 

sustueno, making you wish the 

unseen Bruggite Joseph Victor

had remained the relentless 

unradiant Rylent thus renowned 

for silence without motion as 

lacunish smooth as canalish ooze.