1482
5.21
21.i.24
we see from a fold of
the dance
ekphrastic
for Kandinsky’s 1911 ‘Pastorale’
it is a fearful drawing in
what wind has bent
things held and others let
nothing we know
but this bouquet clutch
the grazing
and the open maw
blink
for all the eye there’s further
the wept line
lean of a tree away
lake taking too
mere gesture
eyelid heavy
a chimney hat
of seasons assembled
we see from a fold of the dance
no one has quite their senses
no one wakes from this
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.