Sunday, July 08, 2007

Rings We Found

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You said that there was a bulb in the center of the forest that illuminates.
I imagined a round globe, spotted with crusted gnats bodies that flew too close and got stuck to the brightness.
The bulb swinging from a tree limb like a pendulum.

Or did you mean that the secrets in that dark wooded place are leavening, enlightening?
I sit on my bottom in the darkest spot and only get anxious.
But I am learning that this comes in small stages.

Sit down in the parking lot and all of a sudden the fallen leaves will rustle across the concrete,
stir you from your magazine. You were just watching, but suddenly you are rustling too.
Communion, union.
Then it's done. Momentary.

I went walking with you and you were talking about the bulb.
Rings, the qualities of union.
In thin vegetal slices, I find rings and want to show you.
In lens flare, half moon rings; in flowers, trembling petals that ring around the center.
Around your finger, there is a ring,
around this walk, we combine to make one, and sing.
(ring around a rosey, pockets full of posies)

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