|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
of an intended life |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Chapter: “Entrainment” |
|
|
|
I’m lying on my back on the thick
balcony rail, legs and arms draped out and down like laden orchard branches. I’m thinking of your laughter and that
pink rose and those red carnations and the profile of your face as we walked
against grey sky. I shift one arm to screen my eyes from
the now-strong sun. Pressed
against my eyelids, I still feel this heat but also that breeze… aware of
bright sky and unseen distant scars…
the infinite inlaid with fragments of time. I remember this sun and that wind and
these birds and those cicadas before I should perceive their presence. A disquieting sensation for a devout atheist: Have I felt this before? A perplexing totality: What is substantial? What is veneer? Everything staggered is merging. |
|
|
|
|
|