Chance: Six More From a Tarot

This entry is part 2 of 13 in the series Chance: A Poetic Tarot



Thicknesses of vines
here stand for the years—
trees have rings but time
is complicated.


The well collects rain.
The rain collects tears.
In a cloisonné vase no bigger
than my nail, I gather my own.


He lined his closet
with pictures I drew:
an animal with a limp,
a feather, a rotary phone.


Last night I twined
a length of yarn
around my wrist.


In the kettle, water boiled
to a pitch. I poured some
into a cup with a small
tumble of leaves.


I tell the wind, Let me rest.
Let me take some ease.
Hammock me in your arms
for a change.


In response to Via Negativa: Peace Process.

Series Navigation← Chance: Six From a TarotChance: Six More From a Tarot →

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