> Moving On

Moving On

Par |2019-02-19T02:08:47+00:00 22 juillet 2012|Catégories : Blog|


The globe's skin, the poet's hand
Over it.  The brui­sed heart slinks
Away.  The voices hang on our bodies,
The voices hang on our bodies, and
In the cand­le­light, the shor­te­ned spaces.
I can final­ly breathe in your absence.
The noc­tur­nal lack of an adage,
Shyness hea­ving onto the water's edge,
The makings of a har­bor go on and on.
Legerdemain of corn dying in a field,
A chain of dai­sies around a girl's neck,
We were fishing, then we faded as the
Dogs lay asleep.  Two by two they go,
And then one by one.  The syn­tax of
All that is unpaid comes to lap a pud­dle.
We are used to our day's work, and
Now it is time to tell our friends about it.