Poetry
Touching The Rock
For John Hull
Aiming the pain
you hurl yourself into
the blindman’s fog
bluff of snow
(slowly you lose your left
shoulder el-
bow) Unfrozen now
breathing shadows flee
the Father-Who-Sees-in-the-Dark
Footfall crows
leaking heart of a clock
Crossing against the light
coal trucks thunder over
Iron Mountain
With a blank look & a white stick
you follow curved 2’s of swans on slate
dead letter of a smile
an unruly line on holiday
In the wild wetness
the everywhereatonceness
of this blessed fall
a voice appears to you
cloaked in the luminous mantle of rain
Gazing upon the face of waters
a hand lifts the veil
from scepter & snai
unwraps its darkly paradoxical gift
Beloved object
wing of morning
shining shining at the end of days
someone sees you
Contributor
L.S. AsekoffAskeoff has published two books of poetry. He directs the MFA Poetry Program at Brooklyn College.
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