Revive the Archive: Emily Deardoff’s “Passionate World View” (2008)

He was spitting apple seeds, saying it’s
beautiful, beautiful, beautiful —
the dry land, the red rock of Sedona, its
immensity.
Wind in the Sierras brought him here,
wind in the roads, wind in the groves of Aspen
(he tells me they are weapons of the
amber-letting trees and whispering dead).
Land of
oil lamps and grief.
Land of
deep cisterns —
he knows them all and listens,
from them a small assemblage of voices,
hears with all his body,
shaking when they are shaken
on an unseen horizon scattered with air, lightly silvered,
and ancient sound.
Miles, the sound expands, pushes through the nets of
cities, of
apartment floors, falling privately to the very center of the
earth.

What he gets is about
Impermanence,
that the hum and collapse in solitude

are good.