EDGING
It’s all the developing world. Pictures kept
as charms against going keep death close
and out, but there’s no knowing even them, not really.
And yet, the staircase gets us to the top of the
stairs — and eyes, who would understand when
you can go with them, beyond surmise — and when
the wren’s whole body shakes in song we notice the fullness
of demand, the cry of just
tenacity, that we don’t know
what he is, gasping the world in
to trembling, turning to himself, hove out.
It’s all the developing world. Pictures kept
as charms against going keep death close
and out, but there’s no knowing even them, not really.
And yet, the staircase gets us to the top of the
stairs — and eyes, who would understand when
you can go with them, beyond surmise — and when
the wren’s whole body shakes in song we notice the fullness
of demand, the cry of just
tenacity, that we don’t know
what he is, gasping the world in
to trembling, turning to himself, hove out.
Ben Hickman