Quandary, by Louise Mathias


All night I flew the dark recess of God’s mind.
It was arranged like Iowa fields–

not a damn thing missing.
You ask how I survived.

I lived on a message, broad light
at the end of the world.

Words, they have so much in common with departure,

the clouds elliptical & nervous.
Why translate? It’s just a revolving door.

“Chill wind” has seven
components. One is loss.

 

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