INSIDE THIS ISSUE:
Deji Adesoye
Richard Lynch
is an independent International Journal & ezine
Copyright (c) 2017
Francis Ferde AAR history note: in print 1967 - 1980. Irregular publications 1980 - 2004. As ezine 2004 - present. Most of 48 years all together....
------------------------------------------------
|
MAP THIS MAKING
I have forgotten the difference between near and far, between the look and the line.
Is this going to have to be another translation?
Because the question I wanted to ask doesn’t work in the present tense. And this tree falling?
I cannot let this be a look, nor just a line.
Can’t we make this a story about someone else? In its current storm, the lightning will snap a white heat,
and eventually everyone else will only care about the tree that was knocked down, about the broken window and the flooding.
But inside the house we are still wondering if I meant one or two, lost or found. Inside the house we are still wondering if our map still fits the territory. Always the flooding, and that tree still my secret.
PARALLEL
Early on autumn mornings, it’s hard to tell the difference between a curled leaf on the Linden tree outside my office window and: a tucked mouse, a heart, a nuthatch, the half-finished possibility of a nest.
My third childhood home was on Linden street and its magic was a camellia so overgrown it could hold aloft the body of a five-year-old girl. She was: a tucked mouse, a heart, a nuthatch, the half-finished possibility of a nest.
Michelle Bailat-Jones, St. Legier, Switzerland |
Ann Arbor Review |
Home
| next |
previous
|
Back to Top