Wednesday, March 20, 2013

Idées Fixes

The sky 
this morning was so 
clear and clean and cold 
that, gazing up, I could hardly 
keep my balance walking.
Fixed on the vast band 
of bare blue, and terrified 
by unobstructed vacancy,
presently, a body stumbled, 
dumb for names 
and numb to numbers-
through weather's 
uncreated vision
of itself.

Eventually came shelter
in some euclidean shape or other,
and, feeling a little warmer,
I felt a svelter face reforming 
and it felt a little smarter 
when, melted, it remembered
a thought intensely new 
it had when wedded to the blue-

that something so unanimous
is always a little disorienting.