the stone stands still
from a hole the size of you
I knit myself back into the distant light
through a thousand loose ends
into my very first new cycle:
waiting to reboot
azerbaijan noon
erratic echoes
of a swallow's cries
faint and shrill,
lost midget amid
the persian blue vault
of turquoise and gentian tiles,
pool of cool noon,
in iridescent samarkand.
the first shy note strikes the oud
of a swallow's cries
faint and shrill,
lost midget amid
the persian blue vault
of turquoise and gentian tiles,
pool of cool noon,
in iridescent samarkand.
the first shy note strikes the oud