Literature
This Poem
This poem
will be found
where you live,
somewhat short of breath,
missing an arm,
and looking
for the way
things used to be.
It will tell
the story of a dream
watching a dream.
Behind small jars
of cardamom
and bay leaf
you will catch
its scent, and,
as you move aside
a thing or two,
it will look up
with lips that purse
like an eye
to recite
all the words for blue
(which might also
be all the names
for wind, weariness,
and God).
It will tell you
what kind you have been,
recalling
the shoes you wore
when you were.
This poem
will be found
where poems always are.