ingrid rose
moving into words

i-site

this body’s franchised to me

on uncertain lease

slippery to grasp or

approach frankly

 

 

after uncertain time

i begin to admit i’m seeing double

images

echoed by their identical other

make it hard to tell

reality from illusion

 

           is seeing believing

           or believing seeing

 

 

whose i is this through which i see

knowing the essential invisible

 

a willingness to cross the divide

me in here   you out there

 

                              out there

 

 

out there

two falcons

over bright beech leaves

tumble down the sunfilled air

disrupt the neighbourhood’s pecking order

 

crows' voices crack each i open

remove a block away

the falcons prey among pigeons squirrels

small songbirds

 

                           kree  kree  kree

 

punctures balloon of normalcy

 

 

in here

life jiggles its particular form

where i end and you begin

space between us

sometimes voice and touch can’t span

so bottled up

when we meet we’re rattled

 

             prisms in your lenses

             the optician declares

             will gift you a single i

             she doesn’t address why

             i’ve begun to see this way

             thinks it

             inadvisable to leave

             undoctored

 

i beg to differ

if you want something to shrink

first you have to let it grow

 

 

between two i’s

gap’s widening

 

father i of light i cover with a patch

suddenly neck swings back

mother i of dark stays put

receives world other i’d been snatching at

pace slows as i in dark

registers squiggles of light

in heightened space

receiving i and world tango

 

               seeing double’s a puzzle

               a sinkhole in the lie

               of my land

               everything i

               think i know

               sucked away

 

 

 mind we see lodged in head

 optical illusion of consciousness

 nothing inside that’s not

 

                          out there

 

 

from beech tree

falcon drops

small creature swoons into death

thousand white feathers

                       like snow

 

 

then one morning

most clearly

through telescope

i see one falcon

alone

on highest branch

 

                  kree  kree  kree

 

 

head turns on shoulders

scans sky

baby beak

small as picture hook

searching

          searching

                    searching

i’m sure

 

 

            for greater mother

 

 

                         kree  kree  kree