Woken again, this time by wings …
Joanna Klink
Lately, too much disturbed, you stay trailing in me …
It began in a foyer of evenings …
Here there is no one to …
Far into fever, attached by cords …
I saw you fall to the ground. …
I brought what I knew about the world to my daily life …
When everything finally has been wrecked and further shipwrecked, …
I never wanted …
Dusk fell every night. Things …
Rain falls across the avenues. …
The door to the past is a strange door. It swings open and things pass through it, but they pass in one direction only. No man can return across that threshold, though he can look down still and see the green light waver in the weeds. …
Some feel rain. Some feel the beetle startle …
So here are the strange feelings that flicker …
Toward what island-home am I moving, …
The shuffling of feet, then, …
In the evening I drove home …
Robins in the cottonwoods, …
And if all those who meet or even …