Monday, April 12, 2004

#27 The Secret Double

In Charleroi where
I grew up
the horses' halters
were hung
with round bells
like those that decorate
a jester's cap. When I
moved to Brussels
the same. A fortuitous
continuity. Later
in a Paris without the
presence of horses
I painted the bells
suspended above a
landscape that ran down
to the sea. I dreamt
of the afternoon windshifts
that would shake them
so I could see
their sound. Now
I have found you &
torn your face away
to show the bells embedded
in your memory. It is
a carillon we share.

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