X Fading Away

The Fading X
---- Big Frank Dickinson

X marked the spot; and what an X it was;
Time it was and what a time it was; it was
An etherial X, it was an airy X; and it was
Quite evident (to me anyway), that the X was, it was there
Right up above me pointing down in
An obvious way (that is what the center
Of an X does) that is its purpose, after all,
To point to a spot, in this case ME, the sign,
The X and me. So in a way I was pointing
With the X - this is where I am. I am the spot.
An X in the sky cannot mark the sky; that
Is only an abstraction, an aspiration, a reaching
Of sorts: you know "a man's reach should exceed
his grasp . . .". That X above me was my excessive
Indication - the overly obvious unreachable mark of me
but now . . .The X is fading, slowly inevitably melting
Into the blue background of everyday everything
And me? I'm still here, but soon that here
Will be there, a there without an X, as it was.
No more idealized, ethereal, overreaching leads;
No more, I'm on the ground, and the only way
of finding me is through me - no more X's.