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)