Auguries 2

Aug c

Listen.

Auguries fly out

from holes in the world

like shakuhachi breath,

wind through cedars,

wolves and whales,

a crying child.

 

Auguries, (for instance)

single shoes emerge

through the holes in the world,

and make temporary homes

on beaches and sidewalks,

everywhere.

Silent, humble, lonely

they await interpretation.

 

The one today

a woman’s pump,

red, glossy,

almost sexy,

almost new,

and lying next to it,

in the February grass

and last years debris,

a doll’s head

with blue eyes.

 

Don’t you ever

wonder?

 

Last week

It was a coyote,

streaked with rain,

standing, hypnotized

under a buzzing street light.

 

She said,

“Everything is normal

except God.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Poem and photo* by clinock

*for best viewing experience, click on image to enlarge*

 

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14 thoughts on “Auguries 2

  1. This deceptively simple photograph comes to life with another of your amazing poems John…..maybe it too emerged through the holes in the world. Thanks to her for reassuring us that God is not normal…..at least for now.

      1. Glad you played, harmonized with this one Jana. I value your readings very much because I honour you as an artist. Thank you for connecting…

    1. “the endless patterns of cause and effect”,
      a kaleidoscope of butterflies,
      a vortex of music,
      “round and round about”
      another circle round the sun,
      lips angled, just so, around the flutist’s zero,

    1. I’m slowly raking it all away, doll head and shoe, last year’s debris, to make room for this year’s debris. We are forever de-cluttering, sweeping up ghosts…

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