November 26, 2007

Dispossessed of the Whole     the Word     of the Whorl

of the light                    rain of the drying                    of the foliage
phosphorescing noon eyes                    shower

the ground, saturated with falling, petals
your feet, irises                    in wet dirt

r o o t                    s t e m                    s t y l e                    s t i g m a

narcissi soiling the water with aspiration                    reflection                    
you take for thirst

what slakes of you                    the whorling unworlding, the lack of
sift through soft-spoken, even callused hands

of the hands and what they do 
not say:     lines     veins     hairs     marks

of the hands and what they only say
between the lines:                    their caress

of the dirt: of the sky: of the feet: of the waves of
sun blears                    chromatic

edges that compose the garden                    burst
of rabbit overtaken into the thickness

(its empty errant secret)

flies                    thicken

exposed turtle eye                    
wide as any moment                    of  (shuttering)

Tongue I gave you                    (saying)
I is the truth you ease                    with release

—Michael Tod Edgerton
First published in Denver Quarterly 40: 3. The final stanza varies lines
from Forrest Gander's poem "The Hugeness of That Which Is Missing," collected
in Torn Awake.

Posted by dwaber at 03:38 PM