∧
font size
∨

One Poem 

Heike Anan

No Sojourner, He

Take the skull out of your eye
And come, to where the unbidden go

Leave the drying deeds
Take back the squandered view
That Sunday heaps on hastened memory
In this coil of things

What you seek in blanket-fisted mist
Under flaming cataract
With eyes of smoke and dust
Don’t try to find it here
In a world that speaks to another
A writ unwritten
Would words not hold
The fairer fire

Now
In this blinkered station
Where time wrinkles back
In the wake of men
Arrest the putrid course
Of brackish hours

You mime a wall at an open door