Sunday, November 20, 2011

desert day

"Desert Day" by Richard Schiffman

This sky is too severe, you say:
nothing but blue pretending to be blue,
nothing but the unbroken forgetfulness
of clouds.
You've heard about snow blind?
You can also go sky blind
on a day like this
when nothing calls to nothing
all day long, and nothing
hears it clear as a bell.

It is true, I live on the edge
of a desert. I chose this place
myself. And there are days
when the world can't reach me,
even my bones don't speak.

They say the desert is hot.
I say it's cool--like a blue lozenge,
like the Sirens that lulled
Odysseus and crew
into a blue indifference,
bordering on plenitude.

That is why I chose this place
where nothing much happens
to nobody in particular. Sometimes
I swallow the lozenge of the horizon.
Sometimes it swallows me whole.
It feels good to slip down the gullet
of something interminable.

Though there are also times
when a little rain doesn't sound
like such a bad idea.

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