turning, a face in the wind:
as if there was nothing left
that the earth could hold,
no need or want that
couldn’t be found some
place else, some sky: far.
-----
we meet here, daily
it seems you wait for
me around this corner,
near the tracks, near
fields that rise & then,
again, fall—or, rather,
are taken down: cut
short, like a life that
served & in going gave
["Off the Grid #1" US-59 Spring 2010]
where were you this
morning when I looked
to the lines for your
sign & found nothing
but someone else’s
power surging into
morning light?
-----
this too is a made place:
dreamscape, without
grid or track or high-
way, no need for
wheel or wing, but
only mind, eye, &
sleep: here, where
irregular is nothing,
we travel together,
flitting, fleeting, &
until all has flown.
when I wake, will
it be unmade, dis-
integrated, lost?
will I be permitted
a return?
-----
there is little left
to say that hasn’t
crossed a line
somewhere, or
that a mind won’t
soon send across
space to rebound
near me as a
figure of glittering
text: moveable,
removable, &
mostly un-noticed.
there is nothing
new under the
sun, but your
wings as they
gather upwards
& away: allowing
shadow to reach
across the span
of your farthest
points, between
you & I, between
acceptance & need.
I love this conversation as it seems to be happening on so many levels: the bird, your search for a spirit too soon gone from this world, and in some ways, a conversation--I think--with a part of yourself.
ReplyDeleteFor me, the whole poem is here:
there is little left
to say that hasn’t
crossed a line
somewhere,
suggesting, of course, that all connection crosses physical and intangible lines but also that everything goes too far, which echoes so nicely back to the first stanza.
Lovely.
More convergence, and I like the blurred lines between dreaming & waking. My favorite part:
ReplyDeletethis too is a made place:
dreamscape, without
grid or track or high-
way, no need for
wheel or wing, but
only mind, eye, &
sleep: here, where
irregular is nothing,
we travel together,
flitting, fleeting, &
until all has flown.
:)