The wedge sank five times into the clay, and a word, which had been spoken in a breath, lay still until the gods’ names were forgotten. Then, when strangers took the tile in hand, while stars sailed into the dark beyond the world, the dead tongue in the clay began to speak. … More »
When the full moon rises and the sphinx moth, hidden all day, hovers into the twilight between smoky blurs of wings, in midair she spools loose her tongue, and dips her body into the grail cup of the fumes for which to be the sphinx at nightfall is to yearn. … More »
All our righteousnesses are as filthy rags; and we all do fade as a leaf —ISAIAH 64:6 After my mother's father died, she gave me his morocco Bible. I took it from her hand, and saw the gold was worn away, the binding scuffed and ragged, split below the spine, and inside, smudges where her father's right hand gripped the bottom corner page by page, an old man waiting, not quite reading the words he had known by heart for sixty years: our parents…… More »
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