Sunday, July 20, 2014

em - path - Y


That black 
                bird 
             (brother)
folded wings and landed with a 
   bounce 
shuffled feathers. I felt
my neck stiffen
fingers flex
half expecting that paper shuffle sound
of evaporated leaf
sheaf dry
as sharpened feather
       shaft on shaft
barbed with little barbs
entire
crackling zinging 
insect
fingernails scratching bearded chin.

Let us practice listening.

Absolute and drenched 
in sound innumerable
syllable 
unravelled 
           tugged 
and thumbed under lamp
softened on tongue
lightfast
woven warm and home
at last.



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