Fanny Howe: Second Childhood (3)

Fall '12 TOC

You see them through the slats
and crack of the open window.
A cold rain.  Leaves flipped
and palsied.
The river is brown near
the sand, loose banks and twigs
stick at the edge and a lilac
resembles its scent.
How in the dark hole can you hide
if you can't get outside?
You are learning how to be a unit
with an infinite in its attic.
It's not difficult.  
Light is the last necessity.
White streaks like oil paint
are the first to appear along the wet railing.
The coincidence of colors
meeting by chance:
code for salvation.
You would rather be (die) with total strangers than with partial ones,
you said to yourself in the elevator going down. 
It was the only time that day that you were as alone as you were awake.
Not Enough Night
Not Enough Night
© 2012 Naropa University