March 5, 2011

There was a remarkable shattering sound,
then nothing. I thought the kitchen fell inward
but the plates and bowls and fine silvery things
were in their proper order, just as you like them.
Out the window all was well, cars passing, people
going from their homes to the store and back again.
Even the dog in the neighboring suite was balmy
in silence, asleep and faceless behind the wall.
I cannot explain the explosion nor why its flak
remains so playfully sly. I cannot outline
the mechanics of its chemical disappearance,
nor how my ears sucked in the modulation.
I can only say I’m happy to hear your voice
singing again through the aftermath.

LOCATION: Florianopolis, Brazil – Just arrived to the city after a two-month absence; I’m staying in Stela’s apartment.

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