Visually Speaking

VISUALLY SPEAKING

i.

A gentle brushing of arms

a warmer green, motherly

the Hemlock reaches over toward the

cooler leaves of the Katsura tree.

“That’s where the imagination comes from, anyway”

you say, referring to the outlandish forms

that nature takes.

Which one is real?

The perceived or the

perceiver?

Persephone sits at the edge of the abyss.

The Katsura occupies an orbit of space

celebrated well beyond her limbs.

Even naked now she stands and

holds herself there like that

in a snow-globe all her own.

She lost her golden leaves some time ago.

I was curious to see her disrobe:

how much was underneath those

thick boughs of a thousand heart-shaped

leaves?

Oh, Katsura.

Persephone sits at the window at night.

The warm interior reflects

the cool twilight.

I keep looking up, thinking

that large round bulb hanging

Reflected is the moon.

ii.

To rebuild        her

put up the scaffolding

and really put your all into it—

construct her in that same stance,

leaning against the windowsill like that

peering into the forest.

She’s not quite the same as

the original but at least she’s

real      all her angles were built from

the shards of her surroundings.

Aren’t we basically the same

forms walking around for centuries, seeding

and pollinating and reforming

as we go          a leggy train of

nymphs and satyrs.

This urge for life

no matter the origin, pushes up

into the gut and wants to be seen wants

to scream this is life and I belong here,

living.

iii.

Eumillepes persephone

a millipede with one thousand three hundred and

six legs             found 60 meters deep

near a mine

iv.

The space between the Hemlock’s reach and the

Katsura is filled with possibility.

Last night, on the phone,

you described how you couldn’t tell

if the clouds were veiling the mountain or

if the mountain was covered with snow

and I knew you meant it was light .

Visually speaking,

that massive boulder

pushed back into the sky.