I, for Instants, You

 

“Simply to name it is to con-

fuse it, altogether:

here now you

is a form you will not fill”

-Ron Loewinsohn-

 

“artists very often forget that their work holds the secret of true time:

not empty eternity but the life of the instant”

-Octavio Paz-

 

The children are reading Basho.

It was raining.

There’s a bright diamond

there where the legs in your jeans

come joined together

Is there a name for that small absence?

Where nothing blocks the light?

Between

Where your flesh fuses together

Con-fused, seamlessly?

 

In this case, I am eye

For instants, and then you move.

The children still reading Basho.

(they “get” it)

Rain coming again

this time not from cloudy skies

but wind shaking trees