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The Journal of Shirin Swift a girl's kisses
01/07/2007 03:49 p.m.
are tumbling leaves caught on branches in midair with unthought,
never change, even into womanhood,
becoming a spillage of gentle shapes of her mouth long ago
veering from a resemblance to anything so vivid as rosemallow
the leaves, having listened to the weight of thrushes and white-eyes shifting
and lovers' ideas exchanging hands in the backyard world below,
jump
having bent fingers to fit any pocket, tumbling
out of clothes, she listens out for dark overtures with ocher buds
unadjusted to night or respiration, i am determined to hear,
she lip reads the leaves as mouthing, to hear you, she finishes
| Member Comments on this Entry |
| Posted by Kathleen Wilson on 01/10/07 at 06:35 AM whew... what dream language...I am not sure ...but I think leaves must turn into poetry like this.. I love the leaves caught in their falling--and the activity of all that surrounds-- their world ongoing--as if the listeners, the observers... and speaking from their pocket-sized bodies--desire to hear, to know... the "veering" through ambiguity toward "anything so vivid as roesemallow"-- a large and vivid bloom in fact--this is luscious. |
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