A Poem by Stefanie Bennett
Do I abdicate? My year’s breath
Sight’s less detailed.
But I can still make sense of short-wave
Variations – it’s just
The pronunciation that’s altered.
Once -, aspiration’s reverence could
Be drawn from
The immense tautology
Of the bookshelf. Here; the logos!
There; the halcyon
Cloud… and I
A wistful intermediary mouthing
To the day-breaking moon.
Now, circuit-breakers can be found
Brevity begins –
The reeded pool turned holograph,
Becomes a pale
“And age,” said Han-Shan, (off-side
Of life and time)