Arts+Culture

Arts+Culture

We Are the Eighth Day, © Melanie Weidner

Poetry

Question

What if the kingdom
is solider than this door,
stauncher than walls of oak,
what if hope
resounds louder than the thick
brass knocker on the bank door?

What if flimsy
translucent angel wings
lauded in song, but delicate as moth,
last night tore apart a mountain
merely accidentally brushing by?

What if grace is denser than iron—
and light, even unbraided,
breaks the fall of a stone.



Film

Secret agent

Adapted from one of Robert Ludlum’s bestsellers, The Bourne Identity was one of the exciting entertainments of 2002. Matt Damon played the hero, a man hauled out of the drink who digs two bullets out of his back and finds a Swiss bank account number implanted in his hip. He has no recollection of who he is, but he’s exceptionally strong and resourceful.
Poetry

Sorrow stalks me in an old coat

the color of churned water.
I have worn it for years—
it no longer fits, tugs at the waist
where I have grown under cover,
spreading like roots, like grief,
swelling in rows of deep rhizomes
long after sowing. How often
can a heart break? When
might I be rid of this old coat?
Poetry

On the airplane someone else sleeps

How does this other woman dream
and does it seem
a secret place
of cloud-swept lace?

Where do the roads go down below?
Awake, I know:
in sleep’s ravine
I’d miss this scene.

If it were me how could I sleep
where shadows keep
a path of me
across each tree?



Poetry

All the news

Some look to angels
for news of the holy.
On my knees in the earth
of my garden,
hot sun rakes
my hair, licks
my neck, presses
me down, stuns
me with all the news
I can bear.