INDETERMINATE BREEZE, STONE FOUNTAIN By Carol Frith, Sacramento, CA
I have separated myself from the letters of the alphabet, from the stone fountain in the neighbor’s yard.
I have forgotten what it is I need to know, what mysteries I need to listen for.
I will parse the sentence of the afternoon, each word drifting like a frail leaf on an indeterminate breeze.
Were my French good enough, I would translate my unrest into perfectly modulated French phrases.
My French is no longer good at all.
I shall put aside my small book and think of how long I have lived my life in youth. In age.
I shall wear a warm scarf and contemplate the passage of the quiet years.
I shall put on a modest dress and walk the neighborhood, counting pairs of courting flickers in the tulip trees.
I shall focus on the clean beauty of time in its increase and time in its diminishment.
I shall face the east to say my daily prayers. I shall walk until the evening turns to stone.
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Carol Frith takes her on-stage bow with the dancer, Wanda Ingmire and the on-stage reader, Natica Angilly |
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