Thursday, September 3, 2015


...this morning
from a mosquito 
about space: sitting
in what begins to open 
into spacious silence,
I hear, distantly 
at first, the familiar,
high-pitched whine 
that wakens every
last sleeping corner 
of a still-drowsy
mind to the attack; 
then closer, closing in
at speed, the whine 
crescendoing, now
close in, provoking 
the familiar reaction,
the urgent, neuro- 
muscular desire to slap
the creature down. 
And then it's off
again, darting hither 
and yon in different,
unpredictable directions, 
the sound rising and
diminishing as it 
flies, triangulating,
into near and far, into 
down and up, into left
and right.  And I sit 
watching the sound
as it diminishes  
and grows loud again;
listening, defining 
space, eyes closed,
mind infinitely alert  
to the mosquito's
fleeting path; creating, 
yes, my own dimensional
path through space, and 
back again to silence. 

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