The Sky Keeps Surprises
the wound is bleeding into white
the wound is threading clouds
across the eye, across its view
and how can it be
that I am
caught
by the end of this road
by the beginning of a faraway
flame
off guard
I find my steps
going back and forth on pavement
in the middle of the street
a follower
of clouds
a sort of
clown
does anybody see?
against this view, why
do I feel
myself
invisible and invincible
a leaking thing at times
there among the buildings
and windows
all above my head
I could be seen
a fool
and
I am I am.
Notes:
Reprinted from Border Wisdom (Winter Editions, 2023).
Source:
Poetry
(January/February 2024)
