for Jean-Luc Mylayne
Or the vision that holds at its razorpoint the feathers of a bird goes blue. Each sleepless- ness framed, behind, by this whine of insects. So a shutter, lifted, offers to looking the very oracular interior of that openness into which bird inserts itself. Its song shortening when there is wind. Comes the visible and its remainder, a blur, what? Tittering at lower and lower luminance. That the accompaniment might be sufficiently responsive.
Copyright © 2010 by Forrest Gander. Used with permission of the author.