Maybe the whole world is absentminded or floating.
—Simone Muench
Photos: Nameless remains after all the losings and findings; touch and care slip away as the wayward moves on. -DB
Simone Muench in Wolf Centos (2014 Sarabande Books):
I saw my life a wolf loping along the road—
a glint of bone, visible & then gone,
a landscape altered.
Ideas, hair, fingers
fall & come to naught.
A shirt blows across the field.
A shrug of stars as flowers go out on the sea.
Maybe the whole world is absentminded
or floating. The flower, the weather,
the room empties its mind of me,
the sea-pulse of my utterance.
I have stood for a long time
at the edge of a river, unknown, nameless,
hands groping for the shape of the animal.
Not knowing what all the music had been hiding.
