With only five weeks left, it feels as if my two collaborators are turning up the dimmer to blinding! This week, Cindy continues to get fruity and Ashley disappears in a landscape of Chinese poetry. There is light everywhere and these ladies have filled their eyes with it. May it pour into yours…
The woman who by choice disappeared for several days
tried to relocate (interiorly)
to the landscape of Classical Chinese poetry
but the thrift stores were out of jade curtains;
no horsemen were available to carry her north
(where womens’ thoughts are always going in those poems).
She played with shell combs and pin curled her hair
and briefly changed her name to Guinevere
going to look for orchids, having read
they are the most masculine of flowers
but she hesitated to call anything perfect
and from the start was never careful: the door banged shut
behind her, pictures from many years falling off hangers.
On a still bright
higher than sky-high
scales of mackerel clouds
taunt the fisherman.
Thin chords of sunlight
fracture the gulls’ flight
on course but destinationless.
the dying light says
while anything remains.