ForkWordPoems by Inchiki |
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Notes of springThe wind of spring is all we hope for summer breath brings calamity and hooping song of death. The quaver wrens begin to sing, an auburn force lidless spirit warms the day and brings it focus a breath of never-never washes dog faced over time and groaning land answers even when it’s hoarse the lancing trees are rooted in the quartz pus the sentence of the fences reminds me of a crime So one foot goes before the other for the other I raise my head the sun spins and stars rise up A hollow echo froes the wall of the gully spirit My stomach heaves I have a strong urge to spit and knees desire sharp stones on which I fall down to kneel and hold them like the hot hands of my mother A broken ant upon a burning plate looks round the soil and sticks decide its passage on the ground A china lantern peaks into the river hollow while all its rodents creep inside the rocky spaces and from a limb a bird falls into its swallow. These are the tiny movements of a limitless face whose fire animates the day and all who dare live are victim to the ordained sentiment of the land. Rhymes for a mood, 2007 |
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