Poem from the Vault: I Study the Wind

I study the wind

With my gaze I affix

swaying flowers

and  buzzing insects

trying to see their souls—

my vision only blurs.

I sniff the air, waiting

for a sign—

it never comes.

I touch the air

and feel I finally have grasped it—

but it has already blown away.

I taste my tongue—

I’m getting nowhere!

I listen for things which

cannot be heard, and hear

only silence—

and this is the way it is.

 

[Originally published in Jittering Microscope #5, 1992]

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