Away

I see how to exist beyond the page.

The tangled bursts are bound in nests of rage. 

Then once with swirls of wind and whirls of breath,

The mad makes way the whimsy marks of play. 

The stillness strikes in white without a word. 

The lift of peace, the flight of birds, away. 

See the painting, read left to right, https://www.menil.org/collection/objects/7024-untitled-say-goodbye-catullus-to-the-shores-of-asia-minor 

Inspired by Cy Twomby’s Say Goodbye, Catullus, to the Shores of Asia Minor with prompting from the Menil WITS Writer in Residence, Elizabeth Keel.

post #279