|Transit Zone by Martin Burke||< back : index : next >|
T h e S o u n d o f W a t e r
What is the sound of water?
That year, and in that place,
as the brightly painted boats bobbed about
a language in which the mysteries were active
one that spoke of history
in which the sound of water was a lyric of tides
those welcomes and departures it held before me
Was that the answer to my question?
Most of all it was a music I surrendered to
a set of rhythms in which my question had no substance
something I tried to equal in words
that year and this year also,
to win a little victory from it
neither in the way I surrendered to it
interpreting it now
most of all allowing its answers access
that quality, that density, I still try to penetrate.
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