Heads or Tails I thought it wouldn’t be Too much to ask A pause, that is For you to look inside, Survey the path behind And set your sights A little higher on the March uphill So when we summit The chrysanthemums that have decayed, The wine that has become a Bitter sap, The lazy heat that Lies upon the lowlands Like a shroud Hold no surprise And there my tongue Is like a finger Fumbling in a pocket For a coin of Just the right Denomination Finding one by shape and heft I balance it upon my lips But it’s been worn so smooth that Heads and tails are Now identical ________________________________________________________________________ Emanuel E. García, A Deeper Symmetry, 2014 |