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Transit Zone by Martin Burke     < back : index : next >   

H i t   a n d   M i s s

When we crossed the dunes
we could also have been
marching into eternity
but this was not our concern.
We were intent upon
the actuality of the day
and the sand giving way
under our feet,
though now that it comes to it
we were not even concerned with that.
The day was splendid autumn
and we were fully alive to it
regardless of the circumstances
of sand and out-going waves.
We could have been elsewhere
and it would have been the same-
the two of us at a steady pace
as if we were walking over history
and into the otherness of the day
which was exactly the same as the day
we were experiencing and held on to;
much as we held on to each other
when the strong winds came
and we were buffeted from left to right
yet held to our chosen direction.
Did it happen like that or does the poem
make it happen according to its needs?
Whatever, I have lived both and know
that between them they compose the day
and possibilities I hold onto and name
live by, take my cue from, aim for, hit and miss.

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