Dot... Letter... Word...
Skyscrapers and centipedes, they’re all
In these tracks that trudge across
The desert. A red fluorescing scorpionfish,
In Samir Ahmedov, the moss,
The liverwort, the Caucasian grouse
At the edge of the birch forest, and
They are all alive, even the pockmarked
Cobble, the light that shifts on the sand.
Yaacov David Shulman