Thought for today.
If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that?
Matthew 5:46
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from In Search of Evanescence - Agha Shahid Ali
It was a year of brilliant water
in Pennsylvania that final summer
seven years ago, the sun's quick reprints
in my attache case: those students
of mist have drenched me with dew,
I'm driving
away from that widow's house, my eyes open
to a dream of drowning. But even
when I pass --in Ohio-- the one exit
to Calcutta, I don't know I've begun
mapping America, the city limits
of Evanescence now everywhere. It
was a year of brilliant water, Phil,
such a cadence of dead seas at each turn:
so much refused to breathe in those painted
reflections, trapped there in ripples of hills:
a woman climbed the steps to Acoma,
vanished into the sky. In the ghost towns
of Arizona, there were charcoal tribes
with desert voices, among their faces
always the last speaker of a language.
And there was always thirst: a train taking me
from Bisbee, that copper landscape with bones,
into a twilight with no water. Phil,
I never told you where I'd been these years,
swearing fidelity to anyone.
Now there's only regret: I didn't send you
my routes of Evanescence. You never wrote.
Big Book Of Poetry
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