Laid out flat
in the back of the station wagon my father borrowed
I look up:
the leaves are immense,
green and golden with clear summer light
breaking through –
though I turn only my neck
I can see all of them
along this avenue that has no limits.
What does it matter
that I am only eyes
if I am to be carried
under the trees of the world?
From beyond the numbness of my strange body
the wealth of the leaves
into my small still watching.
Peter Boyle, “Paralysis” text from Coming Home from the World, Five Islands Press, 1994; audio from The Transformation Boat, Audio CD, River Road Press, 2008: by permission of River Road Press and the poet. Copyright © 1994, 2008 by Peter Boyle.
Source: The Transformation Boat (River Road Press, 2008)