Figure in a Room

• 

Eggplants,

Reflections,

Flowers.

It’s not much to offer in return.

I escape into the accommodating mist,

embarrassed and too far lost in other landscapes

to embrace the yes or the no.

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Auguries 1

Birds on wires,

musical notes, perhaps

a singing telegram

lost in translation,

lost in the gray.

 

It’s a dead worm

wriggling in the wind,

she said, and I added

A crushed crow,

red and blackly abstracted

with truck prints.

A woman laughing

in a doorway, and

pale movements

in my peripheral vision.

 

Auguries

stagger, wave, shimmer,

appear unbidden

unfurling from sodden earth,

emerging from mists,

shaped like cats, seagulls, roses,

smelling like rainsoaked moss,

sounding like birds on wires

beginning to unfold,

cleaving me

 

 

photo and poem by clinock

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