Poetry and occasional prose from Yasha Yatskan's archives

Spear

    (for KK.)
I am the window's
pane of glass, sky-
 
stained like the eye's
lens refracting
 
the mind's heart
into future tenses.
 
I am the sublime
force wind deploys
 
to shuffle cards,
invisible, howling,
 
flying one by one
away: fate's inevitable
 
lacunae, the missing
pasts. I am
 
the hidden point
of infinity in the vase's
 
void. Essentially
I am you, Arjuna,
 
prince victorious
crowned in happiness.
 
Now steady both
hands on the spear
 
and await the arrival
of time's flaw.