Poetry by Tracy Marks


copyright 1972 by Tracy Marks

she whispered then with the
            dusk landing at her
side, "shantih shantih";
it was a cry she could not
                  stifle. often walking
         down the beach she
would turn and mouth the word, as if
some crepe-wrapped hero
            had the name.

        she had clutched the dawn to her,
called it her       child
then learned that possessing left
       deeper hollows - before
questions grew, there were
     replies/ words
could not name them, nor could forms
                           of discarded dreams.

when she stopped
     they welled inside her,
 not wanting       to be
named, or -
explained? there was once a

        alone she
lived the dusk, in copper streams she
     before the movements of
the ground, became the horizon,
"shantih shantih" because
     of the sound
of the word. she would reach
        its ebb again then let it

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