Saturday, March 9, 2013

HIGH NOW, BEYOND MY LOOKING UP





HIGH NOW, BEYOND MY LOOKING UP


from all things at bottom,

are only walls which hide the buildings,

confronting me simultaneously brick

in red, but limed, and azure welted hazily.

This is the long view, taking in more

than just each brick, laced white

in gossamer mortar strands, up

beyond the reach of any tallness.

Nothing assuages here but this clay tide,

baked horizontal, end to end, and placed high

against this moment’s monumental height,

which if I try, I touch. . .


but touching, only trace forever being

Time’s ever faceless stranger’s son.


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