I depend on the sentence On a stop that seeks form
as orderly and modest as everyday speech
Everything in me awaits the moment when a shape
encloses the shapelessness where it was suspended
I suffer gently but persistently the pain of uncertainty
the dissolution of feelings and thoughts in which I live
as in a diluted space
It doesn’t hinder me from admiring the linden branches
spread wide behind the window the screech of a magpie
annoying and blessed because it exists
it doesn’t hinder me from taking in the heat
of this dry and tragic summer
But a sentence a reliable sentence
restores under my feet the firm earth
Sign up for the Mockingbird Newsletter
COMMENTS
Leave a Reply
