Plummet of heart to foot-sole —

Plummet of heart to foot-sole—

Of wing to thinnest skin,
blue strip of still
flowing water—

O for the countless times
I’ve tumbled through that hole
in the floor—

Gold tassels and cord,
billowing skirts, curtains
I thought surely curtains—

Down and into the sooty
dark, so far so far
I thought—

Bring me a measure
of that square of paper
where someone’s drawn

a constellation,
string rosy with knots
of light on which I hoist

myself up and up
as all things must
obey what comes

after the fall

 

In response to Via Negativa: Dropping.

1 Comment


  1. falling like a world full of alice, just as surreal,
    david’s write is dark and stark like jan svenkmajer’s alice
    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yK_ZKk0jc0I

    hope feels like seeds you plant,
    something you have never planted before
    waiting to see what will emerge.
    stopping the dogs from digging it all out =)

    Reply

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