< > by Mathew Weitman
There are two distinct shapes created by a skein of migratory geese. The first shape is created in the blue it moves towards: it is too big to see the beginning of, but the V of birds forms its end. The second shape is created by all the sky the geese are leaving: it begins at the narrowest point—behind the leader, and the two birds which lag, respectively, to his left and right—and continues, endlessly, outwards. It is no coincidence that the skein itself, resembling the mathematical symbol, moves towards the space it signifies is less than X, and away from the space it signifies is greater than X. For years, I have studied how to position myself correctly in universe. This means that I am always standing in the direction that the birds are flying towards, so that when they pass by overhead, I remain greater, in an endless space.
Mathew Weitman is a New York-based poet, musician, and writer. His work has appeared in the Ekphrastic Review and Plum Tree Tavern. Additionally, he has spent extensive time in the Fukushima prefecture with the eminent potter and Zen monk, Fumio Ito. Much of his writing is inspired by his travels and volunteer work.