Where The Mind Wanders

To old marks on the white board,
Remnants of thick black tape
That still exists in little strips,
Distracting in their shape
And offering escape:

One like a canvas framing
And two like old men stood
Facing, as though squaring off
Like ancient warriors would,
In some invisible wood.

And in the blank between them,
There in the common place,
A thin sharp horizontal
Hovers in the space
In slight, beguiling trace,

And draws me deeper into it
Not caring to explain,
Draws me to the distant end,
Silent and arcane,
And leaves me there again.