Birds or incoming aircraft overhead.
To survive as a tuft of dishevelled hair,
as a lady the size of a soul
if the soul were a penny.
To survive as a limpet, which is to survive
with one’s whole being.
The engraving has a mandolin on its roof
preventing your third skin
from escaping. Let the world
wag as it will, says the grey boatman,
his voice muffled beneath afternoon.
One of the people inside me
is behind a column in the picture.
In the new country he was a charioteer
whose head ends in a tree.
The place: Perspective.
The time: Trapped sky in the form of canal water.
The scene: The clock in the back of the deserted house.
On the border you will find the part of yourself
played by a grey wreath.