no, not
prelude prelude prelude
then: the brief mention
of light
no, not
threshold after threshold
then: the crossing
over
no, not
silence cusping song
but singing!
everywhere!
(the heart, with
one foot ever-lurching
for the last
stair, where
Death’s welcome-
mat, stitched with little roses
waits for the sole
of your shoe
before
a ubiquitous threshold
of light—
singing—)
by Maya Owen
