Oddments

In search of story


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Connections: February 6.18

Balustrade in the woods

wants authenticity

neither built by squirrels

nor grown spontaneously.

Its lines and neat-hewed angles

perhaps herein discordant

but for those of certain age

orthopedically accordant.

 

More thanks to the S.W. Berg Photo Archives.

Connections

 

 


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The asking

In the library I walked among books.
Bent to their planes
I read
as tombstones
the names.

Bonhoeffer.

Flinching,
I passed by.
But then back.
Wide-handed
fearful
I lifted
regarded
assented.

In the park I stopped
mid-bridge
attentive by decree:
the water is loud today
I said to myself
urgent
insistent
roiling and grey.

The eyes in the round glasses
looked back at me
from sun-checked splash
his words already
seeded
sounding.

Who am I?
Bonhoeffer asked
entombed
enwombed
in Nazi prison
soulkeening for flowers
leaves
creeks.

Alone
orphaned of all
but self and faith
he held.
Would I?

The water is loud today.

SANYO DIGITAL CAMERA

On 20 January I went to the library and then to the park. I am not the first person to leave a library with inconvenient questions.