the poem as
an MP3 file.
|Sixty-three suspends her animation,
Intending to replenish her reserves.
X marks the sacred center of her being,
The place beyond her appetites and nerves.
Yet still she hears the sirens of sensation.
To be oneself is to be all creation,
Here in ways no instrument observes,
Replenished by the simple act of seeing
Each windrow with the wonder it deserves,
Each remnant in the robes of revelation.
Copyright by Nicholas Gordon