2014-10-02



“Dead? How can that BE?”
.....a woman sobs as
..........the airplane taxies to the gate; 
flames on water; the whir
.....of a hummingbird behind my eyelids;
..........these are means 
by which we live: joy, grief, delight–
.....straw mushrooms
..........rising into the visible world; 
wisps of rabbitbrush are all
.....that remain of generals’ dreams;
..........a branch of a river rejoins a river; 
flip a house and it’s shelter,
.....flip it again and cabinets
..........open, wine is poured, dogs yap, 
people joke and laugh;
.....sandhill cranes swirl
..........and descend into a cornfield; 
we ampere each other;
.....a bus stops: a child gets off,
..........starts walking on a red-clod road: 
nothing in sight
.....in all directions;
..........a rose flame under our skin, 
hummingbird whirring its wings;
.....a rose flame,
..........nothing in sight, in all directions: 

from ‘The Unfolding Center’; Arthur Sze


[from Sze's 2014 collection, Compass Rose] 







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