Consciousness, Literature and the Arts
Archive
Volume 11 Number 2, August 2010
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READING MICHEL HENRY IN SASKATOON
The trees along the river walk
on the banks of the South Saskatchewan
are striving towards pistachio green
in an attempt to calm the (nearly too) bright
morning light.
Things stand out in sharp relief
on such a morning, explaining (perhaps)
why so many artists live around here:
shapes and colours pronounce the measures
of the world
as though they were life
which like love is not an object but itself
lived as when (nearly) pistachio green leaves
share (the pathos of) life's flow
with me.