Two Poems
J.Aoyama
Holding a Kodachrome slide up to light from a north facing window
While closing one eye
Is like peering through a low powered spyglass into the past:
A sort of magic
One fortune cookie in an unlikely place
My garage workbench, let’s say, or your project space
White corner of paper showing begs to be pulled
Gently without cracking the hard stale pastry
A length of papyrus typewriter ribbon emerges slowly
With free verse in tiny brushed ink characters
* * *
Author’s note:
The first poem is what is ink-brushed onto the paper in the second
poem.