Mount Grace Priory
By G.C. Waldrep
It was not a question of not having the language for it—
having two, in fact. The walking towards it,
and then the walking away. How that felt, all the green
gathering itself to the idea of green, lingering
right at the edge of the dark, what we call the dark.
And the languages, both of them, noticing that, envying
it. From their places at the beginning & at the end.
Notes:
Audio poem performed by the author with assistance from recording technician Paulo Botelho.
Source: Poetry (July/August 2024)