#507 paper a cut map      beautiful        land            beds                  tree                    the air                         to dance in                       time                    what ground                       stretches out                         dancing, you feel like                               dancing                               so many winds blowing            forest    the mind                       flight                       the sun                                     on the open                              then the earth                                            wall A swerve away from what? Where was I before I swerved? For the reader, the first word of the poem constitutes the first swerve – away from a less attentive to a more intensified state of awareness. We may also want to ask: a swerve toward what? Perhaps the only fit answer lies in our reading of the poem, a moving with (and being moved by) its words. * Each turn is a re-turn, and turning itself is at the heart of verse and…