dans la chambre: a prose poem <djs>

[Darren Schulz]

I come back to the prairie. The fall yellows and browns. The great blue
vault sometimes unbroken by clouds leans into a reddened darkness in
evenings streaked almost aquamarine and greyish black. Then, very late,
a last brick-red haze and the first stars. "It is still good, here," a
voice out of the grass says, speaking wisely of what it cannot know.
What is good, here? A stillness out of which come both the conviction of
timelessness and oblivion. There are other kinds of oblivion. Winter
haze over Manhattan. The palpability of apples in a still life by
Cezanne. Fatigue at 3:00 a.m. Another conversation.

darren schulz

More Moons for Midnight: a Collection of Poems by Darren Schulz
~~~ http://www.geocities.com/Paris/Metro/1927 ~~~