The Point Where the Circle Begins
by Kerfe Roig

I am still waiting for the moon—
face against the window,
staring between the buildings
to where it appeared once before.

I draw
a circle not quite
an enso but still
to let the inside out.

I am still waiting for the night
to grow ravens’ wings—
black on black, glittering, quivering—
almost a color, escaping form.

The inside
is never really empty—
there is always more
to reveal
always more to hide.

I am still waiting for the wind
to take the shadow branches
and dance against the sky, against
the moon, flying on ravens’ wings.

Those gestures
turning on nothing
at all and then
returning to all that is. 

PAINTING: Moonlight Crows by Bernadette Resha (2014).

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: When I first moved into my current apartment in August, I could see the moon out my window between the buildings across the street. Although I still look for it, I have never spotted it there again. The night still shows up regularly, though it has yet to grow wings. And the street trees wait beside me and my paintbrush for the wind and the moon to illuminate their dance.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR: A resident of New York City, Kerfe Roig enjoys transforming words and images into something new. Follow her explorations on her blogs,  (which she does with her friend Nina), and, and see more of her work on her website

Self-portrait by the author.