Friday, May 13, 2016

In Lines


Allah writes in the outline of things:
A dog's crooked leg,
the sloping scalp of a stone,
a bare branch fingering cracks across the sky,
and telephone wires
hung diminuendo down the road.
The line is the message,
and the message is the line,
but still the cursive burns
to my eyes with a deeper fire.

May 13 2016

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