one day the crumb and dust and hair littered floors the pot on the stove burbling all of it will go on without me i’ll have disappeared as easily as sea salt into soup invisible assumed a crystal dissolving and the streamside swing my brother couldn't get enough of over the water will continue in its currents and the eye that witnessed his ascents closed and koi clipping through a man-made pond and the waterfall crafted by pump we sat there so few times before the house was sold all those promises of relaxation all of that rhetoric of home and heart but this is the truth we were no different from the migrants picking peaches searching searching for the next more and maybe the richness is still trapped inside my brother's longing limbs maybe swinging over that stream twisting spinning sky water mirth and earth below him a circuit of truth he understood without words maybe all my brother needs is the earth and like the shakespeare fool the clown of all consciousness knows much more than ever i might because he sees what i cannot wisdom tongue-tied but no less true than the wordiest scholars on earth
Written beside “One Day” by Marie Howe
No comments:
Post a Comment