But quiet has gone. A lone, lanky, lovely visitor dropped in on me
entirely unexpectedly. How now to find
my silence, whence the new things come?
It is an opportunity to strengthen, to refine me, to define
the boundaries of my crankiness, the rudeness of
my solitude.
And then a friend
whose face lends me
its poem.
Bow-line
You've a bow-line arcing
up from your eye
into your brow -
as if you've always held a quantum of your thoughts aside
- in case you'd one day need them
for a dancing star.
- Silke Heiss, 8th July 2018
