Recollection This is the largest storehouse Between heaven and earth No dirt, wood, or metal can support Its innumerable drawers, tightly locked But keys aren’t necessary In this wordless memorial book Crisp characters appear at a moment’s notice Across its blank pages Projecting endless expressions Of the tears that avalanche after laughter Of the silence after tears run dry Of the dance hall after folks leave And songs that refuse to dissipate Of the mess of footprints on the asphalt And that one deep tire groove Of floodwater engulfing dry earth Leaving streaks never to repeat Of mad winds looting the woods And those leaves levitating Of storm clouds that fail to cover the heavens The spray of faint starlight on the tapestry of night Of the arm that knows not how to swim Slapping hopelessly at the breakers, the heaving surface Of the sudden struggle in a moment without gravity The nihilist sky shot by lightning, frozen Of the ...