Less is the face behind the face,
discovered, gone beyond.
What you see is not more than
what you get.
A black form — the shadow moving
gently on the wall
counts toward my solidity.
The box is a holder
reflecting the holiness
of four sides. What made them
think getting is the only issue?
Tomorrow reading with fingers
the weight, the risk of touch,
we know that on a dark night,
presence with no lights or shoulder markers,
dark pavement moves through a landscape
as in an open room we live in the shadow
of a white form, holistic, unitary
stripped of incident.
And, and, and, but, but
gone, not going on.
Follow — follow
there are directions to be learned
across the floor where
less is severity
in the service of poetry.
The top of a bright blue wall
moves forward above our heads.
And above our heads, the endless blue,
less laid bare, slow movement,
silent music, emptiness filling up
Copyright © 2017 Estate of Sal Romano