Review: Many Skies Have Fallen

Remains

Is this what happens? The soul,

after leaving the body,

wanders down alleyways searching

for something solid to inhabit,

even the heart of a howling dog

in a ruined city, even a leaf,

might do. Or it spends its time

staring into windows; waiting

for its shadow to appear.

Maybe it’s in a foreign room

listening for a hymn that’s yet

to be written. Perhaps it just leaves

traces, like notes in the margins

of a book that’s found its way

into the hands of someone

blessed with the task of translating.