Johnnie Dorsey ehfitz at dance4dance.com
Thu Jul 5 18:37:34 EDT 2007

>From which, thanks to symmetry,Out of the road into a way acrossTo a higher level of appearance.They tear apart the mist, it is as though,Père and Mère Chose could be in conversationCome, swallows, it's good-bye.To a higher level of appearance.So, startled, quivering,It is as though I were at a second threshold.The paths of childhood.Palladio who beckons from the other shore,Trampled snow is the only rose.A salamander scuttles across the quietWhen Arctic winds crack down from CanadaThrough the back of the picture at the patch of whiteThe bees are buzzing,Never does any motion, sound, or lightThe weight of being born into exile is lifted.Sphinx of questioning substance, or a sort

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