DANIELA ELZA
the crow hour II
I write between drops. eaves dripping.
two crows in a tree like ears listen.
again I fool myself
that I can even get close
to writing :rain:
these ghosts on the page that pull at me
drag me out of my skin into certainties.
if we have to be truly philosophical
we will not say
a word.
in the linden tree below the balcony—
the breaking of twigs the weaving of a nest.
crows here speak so effortlessly of rain
tap tapping on leaves
and the strip of light above the horizon
again
delivers us
to the eye of the moon
to the night
where we are dark thought perched
in the trees of dreams.
with first light
you notice
speckled turquoise eggs.
rain isn’t
divisible from this.
November (in another year of War
the rains have come again.
boughs
scold
the wind.
under the skin in my palms
a quickening— small red
birds taking off.
how the rain sits
on crows’ wings
as they take the place
of leaves—
black in the trees
black against November sky.
these tannin tears are not
what you (think.
below the maple leaves
claw the earth—
their seven
little fingers curling
so unbearably red
leaves
on the ground— thousands
of hearts
turning
the seasons
around.
Say the mind is not a point of origin,
but a skin carrying sensation into the midst of objects.
– Lisa Robertson
trappings
how we confuse ourselves.
waiting. sure
something is about to become
known
while the vacuum is on
while the drier tumbles and stacks
its circles pointing—
a gathering of lint
thOughts
sOft to the tOuch.
(useless
the point—
where
I look into your eyes
while on the surFace
our mouths move words
shuffle them on the checkered table—
lint chess pieces full of longing
in our stillness
in our limited moves.
as the eye fuses with
what the mouth misses
the kettle whistles
bRings us
back.
Daniela Elza’s work has appeared nationally and internationally in well over 60 publications. Her debut poetry collection, the weight of dew, was published by Mother Tongue Publishing in 2012. Daniela is interested in the ecological potential of the poetic consciousness. She dwells in the gaps, rubs and (b)ridges between poetry, language and philosophy. Her poems the crow hour II and November ( in another year of War are from her latest book, milk tooth bane bone, just published by Leaf Press ( 2013). She lives and writes in Vancouver, Canada.
