Kathe wakes while dewdrops still form their leaf-bred dependence along the laddered, silver-struck earring that raises our attention to her ear
Kathe kept up the pace of an imposed orderly abridgement to come back so remarkably to a secure spirited level, exactly where music evolves from the applied craft of a skilled technician
Even as tension can scale and ease to the wingbeat of a hovering gull appraising the ponderous, underrehearsed coordination of each inbound wave roused by an evasive, shape-surging wind
Kathe right now is rehearsing for an appraisal of a tulip cupping the silence, as her two hands could be bracing to break out in unreserved applause over a single sparrow sampling the glint of a puddle at an early hour, when the clock’s stuck like a cornered robot deliberating transcendence between two even, equally impenetrable walls, or of her two lively lips allowing a relieved breath entry into our swirling world where we were uneasy until Kathe herself broke the seal and we heard as she heard herself speak
Vyt Bakaitis, with three books of poems published and Refuge & Occasion due soon from Station Hill Press, is now wrapping up The Antigone Play, freely adapted from Sophocles by way of Hölderlin’s renowned German version.