Interior Landscape

Interior Landscape

from Twice Removed

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In the blink of an eye, a light rain.
Among the ten-thousand synapses, the sound of rain, but delicately, the
sound of leaves.

In the blink of an eye, a pure-cold air.
Were I swimming there, how clearly I could see my hands and everything
they touch.

Among all shapes growing here and dying, a sweet
and earthly smell. The weight and feel spread thinly, my own blue house
below,

as if the port were sighing, the cliffs
hauled in from afar, a wave of rolling tiled roofs and lamp stain splashed
against the walls.

In the blink of an eye, no wonder.
In the blink of an eye, an empty room. The unread paper. The space I’ve
cleared.