where meaning is a garden
a slow thing, in the now’s ever flickering
worlds within worlds

I had one of those blurrings–glitch–then focus
like some kind of celestial tuning fork

I hear again your voice
in the dark mouth of the sky
word’s tenuous moorings
in memory, this stark, unsought, implacable stab of love         

           ~ Cento from lines in Sarah Howe’s poetry collection “Loop of Jade”