The palm at the end of the mind, beyond the last thought, rises in the bronze distance. A gold feathered bird sings in the palm, without human meaning, without human feeling, a foreign song. You know then that it is not the reason that makes us happy or unhappy.
The bird sings. Its feathers shine. The palm stands on the edge of space. The wind moves slowly in the branches. The bird's fire-fangled feathers dangle down.

Monday, November 21, 2022

Midwood 8

Out of the sheath dress
gently hopping, sparrow in the lot below
in the great complacency of summer
pressing down, waves of it
what can the plants do but endure this closeness
the trees, their varieties, and ivy, nameless shrubs
and hedges, no one speaks their names
only flowers get that nod and certain grasses
so that when a day of cooler breath in July
airs out the neighborhood you feel
for a moment the rustling in lindens, oaks, sycamores
as they sense what's been withheld
for months, that's when the mature ones
rustle it off, slip almost
sexily out of that dress, unbearable
to feel such potential against one's skin
 
--Jana Prikryl

No comments:

Post a Comment