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Kelley, Leo

LEO KELLEY TONGUES TO SPEAK THIS My hands full of the shadows of imaginary birds, warm there, soft to me: gentle fractures of color where the edge of one bird gives birth to another: no fabric is...

...LEO KELLEY TONGUES TO SPEAK THIS My hands full of the shadows of imaginary birds, warm there, soft to me: gentle fractures of color where the edge of one bird gives birth to another: no fabric is so quiet as this weep, this weaving: and feathers so small they have no shape: tongues to speak this, and wind...

...Thin wind: my bird wane vanishes in air, flock of black stars melt in night: Flap of fire away from here, dense and without radiance...

Vol. 102 • October 1975 • No. 16

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