uproot---fly high...

                When rains come down to flood the town 

And earnest citizens really ought’er 

try to make and keep things sort’er 

dry… 

 I make water

                                                                    (Maya Deren, April 29, 1917 – October 13, 1961)



Saline, roots tangled beneath;

wings weaved out of clouds

fail to catch up with free swans,

and as they glide past, clouds,

they rain down back to saline,

roots tangled beneath.

When all search firm roots,

I dig, dig out roots

to weave wings with tangled roots,

to uproot;

the swans, they fly high in blue sky.



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