“The exile of words has begun.”
–Bei Dao
Still they are messengers, gray
like the wall they’re up against,
gray as the night in which they
must travel by necessity, by
starlight, which wavers in its old
age, just now finding the one
flower along the sidewalk crack,
just now, suddenly, enough light
for the words to get through, for
the words to be thoroughly through.
Featured Image: “Music – A Sequence of Ten Cloud Photographs, No. 1, Alfred Stieglitz (American, Hoboken, New Jersey 1864–1946 New York), 1922
