The World is not something to
look at, it is something to be in.
I look and look.
Looking's a way of being: one becomes,
sometimes, a pair of eyes walking.
Walking wherever looking takes one.
dig and burrow into the world.
fanfare, howl, madrigal, clamor.
World and the past of it,
visible present, solid and shadow
that looks at one looking.
And language? Rhythms
of echo and interruption?
a way of breathing.
breathing to sustain
walking and looking,
through the world,