I often speak of flowers I can’t see
or talk of wild geese
as they fly south—
the rhetoric of sightlessness
fills with nouns
the way some people’s houses
have mirrors
in the attic,
and night
is starry and clear.
I often speak of flowers I can’t see
or talk of wild geese
as they fly south—
the rhetoric of sightlessness
fills with nouns
the way some people’s houses
have mirrors
in the attic,
and night
is starry and clear.