John Pursch lives in Tucson, Arizona. Twice
nominated for Best of the Net, his work has appeared in many literary
journals. His first book, Intunesia, is available at http://www.lulu.com/ spotlight/whiteskybooks. Check out his experimental lit-rap video at https://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=l33aUs7obVc. He’s @johnpursch on Twitter and john.pursch on Facebook.
Solitary Grace
They exit in silence, reverent.
Liquid pours, echoes in the next room. Shoes on tile, wooden shuffles, a hand
so still, so quiet waits in scratched head recompense, sifting an unknowing. Now
the lights are dimmed, the bell tolls six, and heat resolves to coupled
footfalls, heels on stone, further insignificance in somewhat veiled validity
of presence.
Slowly the desert is transformed,
returning to its solitary grace, emptied into full embrace of seamless unity
unborn, surround of cyclic circumvention taking human thread line consciousness
to subsequent repose, fitful caricature of mortal symbolism.
The tendency to cleave, departing
as a way of surviving the intensity of sudden cheer, unanimity in reckless joy,
wonder spilling off elusive catacombs of tethered theoretical release in
pointed false congruity of animated urgency to pausing causal idiom in
synchrony with modern lapse to sketched historic framework.
Memories perspire eidetic influx
jewels of flushed encircled gist, filtering another toll for eaves of dewdrop handholds
fleeting, thoroughly in tandem. Crimson and imperious, the sun descends to
cloud contusion clock of stippled enfilade in stained galactic tense of raw
temporal spin.
Solitary grace
ReplyDeletesingular unearned favor
Grace has kept us safe thus far
Streams in the desert.
TR
thx Tom!
ReplyDelete