The Immeasurable Is Measurable

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I can pull up a handful of grass
still green​ ​and know it will come back
with an essential sense of what
it was and is.​ ​I just want to know how
to lie down​, ​to know my life is writ-
ten across a grass seed​, ​in the profile

of a grass blade.​ ​In the body of a per-
son:​ ​a color for grass which gets lost,
a word for green that only I can see, a hornet
flying in elliptical orbits. Imagine a yard
where the grass is blue in the moonlight​. ​I-

magine what green is to the dead​. ​Imagine if
that was the one thing always preserved
from every person who ever lived— at least
one thing could be a thread.

A poem by Alexander Scalfano.


Photo used under CC.

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About Author

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Alexander Scalfano is originally from northern Alabama and graduated from UMass Amherst’s MFA in Poetry program. He currently teaches English and Creative Writing at the Dublin School in the mountains of southern New Hampshire where he is also the founding editor of the school’s arts magazine, Layman’s Way. Some of his poems appear in H_NGM_N, smoking glue gun, Jellyfish, ilk, and El Aleph.

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