Page 96 - Dark Matter Women Witnessing
P. 96
VIII
What am I talking about?
It’s not easy to
put your finger on
an almost-there
a hovering close-by at a far distance;
What puts the sting in the bee
flavor in sweet, needle in pine, k in akin to us, gossamer in web, unyielding in stone,
yielding in long grass, future in seed, flourishing in flower?
IX
Of course these hovering, these protective
these small kinfolk get tired of upholding
the created world without our help
they retire, they give way after their season,
long or short hardly matters,
a new batch will come round again.
peeping out at us, a reassurance, a never lost, a clamoring shyness.
X
And so I sit here at the edge of myself
on the banks of the world’s end
and I wonder:
what has given me this
different kind of seeing
a sly look directed straight at us
from the no longer weeping willow
the scolding of three barred owls
beneath a wanton moon?
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