If, 2023

I pushed apart
the i and f,
though they be close,
and stretched out the space
like this


i                                                 f

 

 I pressed my hand in to the

 gap and held it there to feel

 the caress of possibilities

     that

                     float  

                                       within

 

but the letters slid back
with nary a shrug nor sigh;

though we be small,

they seemed to say,

the paths you see

the doors ajar

the rivers rushing

to the sea

the if I do, if I did

if I had done

are the constellations

shimmering in our eyes,

our can is major

and can is minor,

 

In the shape

of their shadow

cast, in the flicker

of their light,

in the form

is the meaning,

in the word

is the world;

opening

and

closing.

 

Warwick McFadyen