March 2006

I

Today I dissected a squid,
the late acacia tossing its pollen
across the black of the lab bench.
In a few months the maples
will be bleeding. That was the thing:
there was no blood
only textures...

Will the little figures ever reach the monument?
A doctor orders me to be on watch.
Will the mist pass over their cheeks
...

Over our heads, trailing a wake of air
and an enormous shadow as it passed,
the falcon glided to its trainer’s fist
and settled like a loaded weapon there.

Then, while she fed the bird...