Numen Everywhere has it. A gleam. A slant. An answer to a question no one has thought to ask. Look into the sheer-faced eye of any cliff. A monument to observance. Any city street is a template of behavior. Human to human, I must admit my hesitance. Firm progress and constant growth went out the window and we never caught the memo. We never paused to stare out the glass and catch the light as it bends and circles and refracts through the cirrus clouds into an infinitude of sublimation. Prismatic. Cutting. Like straight through the heart mind-blowing. Pity, how we screen-timed the journey. How our passage was a blip in time like a small microchip in a smart watch we learned how to take in, ingest, forgetting how to feel the spirit of this place, the way it travels laser focused, pinpointed through us, like a surgeon with his scalpel or a capitalist with his wealth. I hope soon we can stop what we are doing and see this for what it really is—this incredulous expansiveness. This awe and sum an equation multiplying with every yes.
Originally from Pennsylvania, Alicia Hoffman now lives, writes, and teaches in Rochester, New York. She is the author of three collections, most recently ANIMAL (Futurecycle Press). Her poems can be found in a variety of publications, including The Atticus Review, The Rise Up Review, The Night Heron Barks, SWWIM, The Penn Review, Typishly, and elsewhere. Find her at: www.aliciamariehoffman.com
Amethyst Review 