Poem
Wild Geometry
by Elsa Hjalmarsson Lyons
Photo by Clay LeConey
Wild Geometry
Beyond the grid of the window
a crow flies, tracing question marks
without stems– curious half-circles.
The grid disappears. All I see
is the crow’s wild geometry, never resolved
into shapes. This is a city of unsettled
forms; snowflakes fall like tiny white flags
without poles. They stand for nothing
but surrender. I walk the grid,
the streets telling me how to wander, where
to turn. Above, pigeons cut out shapes
with scissoring wings. Pieces of sky
fall to the ground in shifting collages–
the grid disappears under snow
and shreds of sky.
Elsa Hjalmarsson Lyons grew up in Westchester County and New York City. She is an undergraduate student at Amherst College.
