Friday, March 3, 2017

Language Lesson

I keep asking nobody:
what made me?
At last two angels come,
I guess to aid me.
But one speaks only
Finnish and the other
one Hungarian.
I don’t believe they mean
to be contrarian. But who’s
in charge of sending
messengers like these?

C’mon now. Jeez.
But neither leaves.
One slyly smiles at me
and waves. And then,
somehow their inexpression
saves. Suddenly I see
the darkest curvatures
of night; that they
retain a seed of light –
about to dawn, to beckon
anything that whirls –

abounds – disturbs.
Few nouns –
innumerable verbs.
But in what language?
Those angels knew.
And now I do.
How had I missed it?
Love’s the grammar
I’ve resisted.
I’m to learn it after all.
I’m already in its thrall.


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