Saturday, April 6, 2013

6 apr 2013


below, her breathing
what she might hear
an address, a bed, tapioca sheets

there among sheep
she carries home for congratulation
what a rat hunted by a cat might

wall of lupines, decades of wind
what water destroys, unfairly tapped
all, or some portion, may be recovered

jack, tuck, swamp of spring
invisible ropes
to cushion her falling

tidy hum of deafness
furtively stroked again & again
the heart’s fast beat

words standing in line to be chosen
for a second look, wood grain
thread wearing away

in community, silence
patient communion

1 comment:

  1. BEST poem ever. I cannot tell you how much I love this poem.