by Luci Shaw
A visitor from outer space, this alien flames from the back hall’s dark floor tile. As if this were its target from the beginning.
Damaged from re-entry, a crumpled tissue of flicker, it has never landed in this spot before–this lozenge of light.
I trace the trajectory back and back through slats, window glass, a screen, out beyond atmosphere to find its source. Everything has a source.
Carved by shadows, complications of alder leaves, hills, mist, cloud, light years.
And now, here, this trifling signal—the sun’s emissary with its slow wink.
Luci Shaw was born in London, England in 1928. A poet and essayist, since 1986 she has been Writer in Residence at Regent College, Vancouver. Author of over thirty-five books of poetry and creative non-fiction, her writing has appeared in numerous literary and religious journals. In 1913 she received the 10th annual Denise Levertov Award for Creative Writing from Seattle Pacific University.
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