Myth of Arrival

It is nice to have amazing friends. Ekaterina Evseyeva has been sending me photos of her life in Sahka/Yakutsk, in the former Soviet Union. My poem does not do justice to her photography … but as they say, "a photograph is worth a thousand words."

Perhaps I best write a little faster.

Tell me that pigeons have it easy, my
dear, someone must. The sky is vast. I love
the sky, though I am pale. The antennae
of those apartments all rise up, they glove
the whole world in their messages. They shove
old God out of bed, they must, and I think
through this door lies Rome. It rises above
the clouds. You can see it all purple-pink
in the winter sky. Or Paris? The stink
of this life — sore, wet and smog — makes it tough
to tell. Pigeons know. They are my far link
to the beyond. And this door. It's enough
to know I can go. Rise on ruddy-gray
wings. Wild pink delight in a wild pink day.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, November 7th, 2006 at 7:11 pm and is filed under Original Poetry, photo-poem project. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.