THE  27Th  EDITIOn

Grinding down the moon

to access the light

 

or an emerald to free

a forest:

 

this is how history works,

by compressing and making things

 

small and manageable,

barely manageable,

 

the way a candle is barely

burning in the center of a dark room,

 

or the hum of bees from the far side

of a field muted with snow,

 

or the way all of a man’s memory,

the happenings he can fit into

 

two clasped arms

and carry distances,

 

compresses into a photo

in a closet

 

of a mother,

of a child,

 

and the rhythm between them.