To forget

because
a snake with its mouth like a flower
lived here, the rocks of the field
sprang up to be a shrine

their domestic gravity
rips me through every tissue

calling me

with bells at the door,
dream furniture…

and with my heart’s full beating

I

touch

down.

O planet that enters my feet and takes my body! Not to know you.

To forget.

Joanna Wiebe, 1984

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