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In the last instance irrespective of weather photo


irrespective of whether it is a field or not fickle or not want not in this last instance what you can or cannot feel in the manner of light entering a house and revealing another’s face watching at the window the field or the history of its absence in the water the opposite of history is not future but obliteration shall I say I will recognize you in your many guises and absences shall I venture further that god is the final absence subsumed hour-to-hour by lesser absences like this morning by the hollowness of wind moving across great expanses of winter with the sound of a vowel shifting the occlusion of a consonant to resolve in softness until we are all left saying geode geode in this instance what distinguishes a frozen lake from a field may or may not be the damp crawl of beetles on skin when rain drifts horizontally stopping time for a moment or the sense of time created by the rotation of earth felt personally as the weight of another’s hands falling upon your shoulders or your last vision in the loaf-thick dark you are what absence leans against what forces are agnostic but seem to move what we know toward final resolve


image: Aaron Burch