poems as hand- and foot-holds on a glass mountain

Old Shoes Overseen

  

They carry thousands of sightings

after Van Gogh’s, with a hulking file of commentaries

or we would not be here, re-viewing them.

How much of this we see barely matters

as we always miss most of an object’s infinite  context

this time we watch long enough

for it to take us where it lives without us.

 

A vaguely familiar movement

detachment, absorption, relinquishing

brushes us aside as nearly irrelevant

deeply satisfying

for the ordinary mind’s silent double.

 

 

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