Flying Seed

audioear pictureHear the author read this poem (in RealAudio)

There is a barrier
that locks me in.
I must endure this sleep
until what seals me off

is burnt, frozen, exposed
to axe-blow, erosion, rain,
noon, twilight, starlight:
then I will flower,

everything in me—
triple-folded leaf
of the female organ
leaf-shoot of the male,
whorled together
like petals in bloom—
will be explained
as if by a voice:

now I must pass
unknown to myself
through the belly and gut
of the northbound sparrow.

Presented by

D. Nurkse lives in Brooklyn. His new collection, Burnt Island, will be published this spring.

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