Communication isn't always with words...
No vestige of cinema on the walls,
Yet light and shadow play those holy games
By which remembrance stands or falls -
Fine magic prompting the naming of names.
No exits or entrances; still ordained
By the flicker of his lids, hatching fire,
Here a galaxy of bright creatures reigned,
Pageantry of longing and desire.
Catch these if you still can, entire sir,
You're not yet beaten, finished up, or dead;
In this at least let you and I concur,
You love those dreams that whirl around your head.
Old man, with your memories in white room:
Your heart unspools, embarrassing the gloom.
John Garth Raubenheimer
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/in-a-white-room/
