for Columbia
It is enough just to watch you sometimes, how you dance
in and out of sight: at a party, in my life, in the light
of the desert. Nothing can ever hold you, any more than the wind
can be held in a cupped hand - you never rest anywhere for long,
making an art of your search for peace.
A fire crackling, devouring.
A song that brings tears.
A blown leaf on water casting ripples.
Laura Brueckner
September 1999