Poetry Friday, Lorca
Only a single bird
The air is cloning it.
We hear through mirrors.
I discovered a book of Lorca poems, Suites, last week in Paris in Shakespeare & Co. "Replica" is in a series of poems called "Mirror Suites." The whole collection, reassembled from notebooks after Lorca's death, is amazing.
Paris. I feel like I may not ever quite be able to catch my breath entirely again. I had never been. I found it to be stupefyingly, achingly, and almost frighteningly beautiful. Sublime. Sublimity itself.
My father is suddenly, unexpectedly very sick. I am leaving for the Deep Red as soon as possible to be with him. I am scared. Send all of your prayers, vibes, mojo, or whatever you can his way.
Labels: poetry friday