P.S. About A White Thornbird
It is an image too distinctive
In fact, I have never seen a thornbird, let
alone a white on
By the spring riverside bush or in the autumnal field
All my writing to you is about it
Although no words have described it
The faith I have kept is
Words point to things and beings beyond description
Like unsayable love
You are as you were to me
Even if I am no longer the on
I have writing to you all the same
Repetitive, from different distances and years
Writing is like speaking like listening for when nothing to listen to.
It has always been a white thornbird.
Like you, Sanye. Like a poem.
March 19, 2017