Wednesday, March 07, 2007

Landscape With Lorca

By mistake the evening
had dressed in cold.

And we ran as we glanced through sheets of rain, stumbled over brooks and wolf sounds. Walls around us filled with water, held us in with frogs and scared fauns. Streets bent and sank into city brine.

Through the mist on the panes
all the children
watch a yellow tree
change into birds.

Names exchange as stars beneath time burn day to cinders. Eyes blow on candles, sing their inceptions. Petals, out of space, split into here and not here.

Evening is stretched out
all down the river.
And the flush of an apple
shivers over tile roofs.

Bodies of birds swim in gardens, pebbles quivering under grass. Leaping with all their fishes, ponds leave holes in the past. Moments share swiftness with drifting blossoms.

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