LOST

Poem By Roland Jooris

A trace
of longing dissolved
in absence does not seek
its way home

to where
we walk away from lost
down dead ends

without destination
the path meditates
now that at every turn
it banks up and
erases its tracks

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Other poems of JOORIS

Density

Mist. Say
nothing now.
Much is withheld.
Little is much.

In memoriam André du Bouchet

The sheet of paper
tears
the plane from its
window, the sky chalks white,

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Poetry
is becoming that
gets stuck in the
rough, cracked

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Can one draw a scratch of thought into the shaft
of a line that after long perusal suddenly head-on
finds its own depth?

Self-portrait

What resides
intact in him
is no purity

Village

a village is a circle
drawn by hand
around a church;