Wednesday, February 3, 2016

From Volume 36: A poem by Rimas Uzgiris

by Rimas Uzgiris
were swept downstream
in a flood that began with small
buds of water blossoming
into wreaths of rain
that thrust us into a movie
that went faster as we approached the end
and you could scarcely keep up
or enjoy the scenery
passing the sand bar
it all seemed so arranged
driftwood skeletons draped
with souls like shredded sheets
and mewing gulls of memory poked
a sagging sky
then the sea
opened its mouth
O peace that passeth understanding
the part of us that is made of water
will be taken up into clouds.

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