gently tearing open its nutritious heart
to release its flower of sound. ”
In a quandary in a quarry excavating gravel.
Before the thick past with its impending
precipice. The pressure is immense.
No one seems to know
where it comes from exactly.
There are clues
that indicate it originated early.
Like a fir
bifurcated to a brittle split.
Why should he be deprived of love.
The blank yielding to the blank.
Or the start of a garden.
Dale Going
Dale Going, 70, lives in Manhattan and the Adirondack Park. She is a poet and letterpress printer.