by Donald Revell

by Donald Revell
     Sha-
     Dow，
     As of
     A meteor
     At mid-
     Day： it goes
     From there.
     A perfect circle falls
     Onto white imperfections.
     （Consider the black road，
     How it seems white the entire
     Length of a sunshine day.）
     Or I could say
     Shadows and mirage
     Compensate the world，
     Completing its changes
     With no change.
     In the morning after a storm，
     We used brooms. Out front，
     There was broken glass to collect.
     In the backyard， the sand
     Was covered with transparent wings.
     The insects could not use them in the wind
     And so abandoned them. Why
     Hadn't the wings scattered？ Why
     Did they lie so stilly where they'd dropped？
     It can only be the wind passed through them.
     Jealous lover，
     Your desire
     Passes the same way.
     And jealous earth，
     There is a shadow you cannot keep
     To yourself alone.
     At midday，
     My soul wants only to go
     The black road which is the white road.
     I'm not needed
     Like wings in a storm，
     And God is the storm.