Horse Face (audio only)

Here a snail on a wet leaf shivers and dreams of spring.

Here a green iris in December.

Here the topaz light of the sky.

Here one stops hearing a twig break and listens for deer.

Here the art of the ventriloquist.

Here the obsession of a kleptomaniac to steal red pushpins.

Here the art of the alibi.

Here one walks into an abandoned farmhouse and hears a

tarantella.

Here one dreamed a bear claw and died.

Here a humpback whale leaped out of the ocean.

Here

Arthur Sze

1998

Ginkgo, cottonwood, pin oak, sweet gum, tulip tree:
our emotions resemble leaves and alive
to their shapes we are nourished.

Have you felt the expanse and contours of grief
along the edges of a big Norway maple?
Have you winced at the orange flare

Arthur Sze

1998

The path was purple in the dusk.

I saw an owl, perched,

on a branch.

And when the owl stirred, a fine dust

fell from its wings. I was

silent then. And felt

the owl quaver. And at dawn, waking,

the path was green in the

May light.

Arthur Sze

1998

Poems