hoping
that whatever is lost in sense
is gained in essence .
Translated from the Greek
by
Rae Dalven
Phillis Levin
OUT OF CHAOS
No wonder some prefer a narrow hall,
A single room where doubts die
Until possibility, that odd flower,
Returns its face .
The doors close and open every day .
The doors close and open every day
And every day we hurtle toward the city.
Today I saw the usual human disaster:
Head in her chest , legs pocked with pink wounds,
Fingers wrapped tight around a white handbag.
Then the subway doors opened and children
Piled in: the whole car filled with their high
Broken music.
At the next stop they all poured out;
The car was vacant, solemn , the air
Settled and clear-but she was still there.
Outside a lilac bush blows to the wind,
And everywhere one looks
A pre-Socratic flux
Streams down avenues
