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" Interlaken
Get a running start. Catch
a good wind, he said: Be a good
bird. I thought him German
as his hand did the wave––tumult
of syllables, the ocean. A gust carried us
from the top of a ridge to where land
helixes hug vague bodies
of water, pebbled pastures
skimming treelines across the range
littered with wildflowers. Winds lilted:
It’s not your day to go, as I watched
clouds blush vermillion, flying
in tandem as a crow does over
reservoirs and glacial gorges. That high
up, I thought maybe we could fall
in love, full of pomp and spectacle,
but he was a stranger, and to him, I was
strange; possibly ugly. Everyone
peddles timing––the random alchemy
of abutting molecules––though
I’ve grown weary of waiting. Stillness
is the danger. So I spread out
my arms, carved ciphers into ether
while a choir could be heard along
the nave where winding trails scissor
the basin. Spiraling downward,
I mouthed a new prayer, knelt in air
for deliverance, morphing into needle
of a compass, unbeholden to a place
inhospitable: the mind. The mind bent
on forgetting: I was blown wide open. "
― Su Hwang
