Thursday 20 March 2014

Santa Fe Sky by Ann Lauterbach

A spare radiance blooms, blooms again, expires.
This is the radical mark
Of an insatiable wish.
Things look like other things, as was said.
Those that are unleashed
Come upon the hot earth
Toward the toward, violently
Unproven. Thrall is a curse,
A woven rival place indissolubly conditioned.
This you may have seen and endured
As it came nearer, threading its term.
But to act would be the vanishing we know:
Ocean in its wholeness, river in its time,
Lake holding the persistent, domestic sky,
Each an episode in the will to be parted.
But to be that, to be weather
In the distance, fallen, dreamed of; also imagined.

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