Description

"this is not a poem (exactly)"

this is not a poem (exactly)

but a leaf-fall of words unclaimed—

(dear dirt) how softly you

listen

and when wind folds the gumtrees into

parentheses (yes)

what survives is

breath—

a syntax of birds unsinging

•

meanwhile:

Calla walks thru rain’s lowercase

and writes a cloud into her pocket

(a sentence of dew)

Orion maps stars in the dark of the page,

his footnotes wet with ash

•

don’t say hope,

say root

don’t say beauty,

say scar

climate speaks in fracture—

in murmur,

in shiver,

in wait

•

the fire is (still) coming

but

so is

poem

(and what’s the difference,

really?)