Alberto Chimal“I don't know why I thought of my brother's voice,
miles and miles of it. And I turned
from the past because I had none.
Dear reader, whoever you are, remember,
among all, remember.”
—Michael Burkard
Source: https://open.substack.com/pub/poemperdiem/p/thursday-december-26
(The wonderful #poetry #newsletter of #poet and #translator #RobinMyers)
Thursday, December 26
NEARING It makes anything seem possible, Christ. It makes sunlight a finch's tweet, and it says the bath looks upon the bay. It harbors a child, who so calmly asks for the angel of letting, in the night before your voice was born. And then in the morning your voice is a river, and your face is a river, and there's nowhere to turn. I look at your sunlight, all day long. I saith at your ghost, and am surprised. Take, given.