riddle for the invisible fiddler crab

 

 

you see me crashing against

myself

 

do you wonder what is sand and where

saltwater?

 

listening to the waves, i wonder myself

 

in my own eyes i have forgotten

hypnotized with horizons

gray-blue in the sun

black-blue sometimes with stars

blurred depths

 

are you pelican or crab?

jellyfish or manta ray?

turtle or human?

woman and man?

a distant shore?

 

I can swim, yet burn, and feel buried.

I cannot fly.

 

this riddle is my name for now.

 

 

 

May 27, ©1991

 

Amy Jackson

 

 

 

 

Reflections on "Johanna D'Arc de Mongolia," Driving from the Movie

 

 

floating along the four-lane late

night and homeward, music and monotony in my skull

 

mongolian nomads raced long horses as grasses grew back before them

brilliant-hued silks, bursting through the wet outer subway walls

 

shattering with laughter and wind and sun, cheers and whistling

amazing me into sudden movement while driving

 

everything is slow as Earth to sand blows quickly into deserts

 

sand rushing into my eyes from their hooves and speeding

scrubbing me of sight to fill my head like an urn

 

I shift

 

the nomads cross over me now on their good horses

the princess leads the way and they are shimmering silken bodies

 

I am their desert, near the train, where the Spirit Tree stands

 

 

 

May 17, ©1991

Amy Jackson

 

 

poetry

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