By Gordon Kennedy
there is no other way.
what is, is otherwise
than what is not.
the room, the cabinet
your words, which have
no meaning here
we are removing
birds from landscape
till the landscape only
shall remain
until the field of view
is landscape only
in our world
there is no sound
the noise proceeds
from outside, where
a gate has opened
& then quickly closed
a whirr of wings or
celluloid, as motion
pictures image:
flickering, as film
feathers shutter
& lisps to a halt
then slowly winds
into reverse
the scene identical
astonishingly
with itself
impossible as daylight
we are placing birds
onto the landscape
till the landscape
is a single wing
until the field of view
is flight alone
our task is always now.
it has no end in time
& it has not begun.
your observation is
conditional: your lives
of no concern
Until Only the Mountain Remains 