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luz natural

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are you just a word?

are you just a word?
I love this
way in the back
in early gentian morning
down which light’s long
labyrinthine whispers
reach my ear, I
would like to describe it to someone,
to myself, my blind companion
Why did I turn to this
forsakenness again?
Are You
just a word?
Are we beheld, or am I all alone? And
as that little girl on the psych ward
recently asked her father,
When I am very old
can I come back
home, and
will you be there?

Franz Wright, "My Pew"

self-portrait. natural light.