Wednesday, April 23, 2014

The Inimitable Philosopher-Poet

This one's for you Luce


As you reach for the handle you might ask

what is there
opening and closing?

          is the servant of these motions
                   neither here nor there but trapped
                           and tracking by degrees
                                  the circumference
                                              arc of balanced wood
                                                 and panelled glass
                                              invisible as air
                                           yet freighted
                                     with intention;
                           on the move in one direction
                      or the other
          boldly acting out one drama
or another

that might either end
with a resounding
(and tears or triumph as the case may be)
or initiate
an unforeseen and dared-not-to-be-hoped-for

Left           ajar
is in           suspension
gets           us nowhere further
fate           determined by the
iron           hinge
that           firmly
holds         it so.

wait, we wait
neither in nor out but
wondering and tentative
foot raised into space that seems to quiver with – it
could be possibility, or –  not the reverse, but –
something close to dread

about the threshold.

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