Night closes in

  • Wayne Amtzis
  • Saturday, May 16, 2015
  • Comment

Night closes in with its breath taking grip

Night that walks in the guise of day.

Light footed across the rubble

morning comes as if rising from the dead

That which came and came again

leveled a world. In that sudden tolling,

 

what great works were interrupted?

The beating of a heart

A heart! Nine thousand hearts!

The mirrors that temper vanity

lie shattered, and multiply.

See how they run — to pixel the pain,

 

to instant message grief

Hands set to unremitting tasks ahead

are stitched, deeply stitched with glass

with shards of light.

For 2 days I was healthy

in touch with the earth

All it takes to make me whole

I realized as I turned in place: is a 7.8 shot

and a 6.7 chaser

Now the earth again stills

and I’m left spinning. A partner

without a dance

Eyes no longer widen

with a survivor’s camaraderie

and a tale in the offering

 

But shrink with pain,

mourning the lost. A hawk still glides

The city below is not the same

The town below is not the same

The villages below are not.

And will never be.

 

That which came and came again

leveled a world. That which leveled a world

leveled our souls. “My village is dead”

“My village…

No light rises from the rubble

 

Kathmandu, April 29, 2015

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