Response

“Do we communicate in mirror languages, through some inherent sense of form, in every respect but touch? Do we ever know each other; know who we really are?”
–Susan Howe

I become an echo
To what I wish to hear – –

My voice to your voice
A whispery misdirection:

In case I eavesdrop
Words meant for another,

I worry your lines
Like a scar, a palmistry

Read in a different text,
Weaving new cloth

From unraveled sleeves;
An old fool’s motley hopes

From wilted narcissi
Beside a still pond.

(March 2011)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.