Poetry Wednesday

my weakness

i watched you hunger;

it was a twilight-in-your-eye,

more lidless than The Want

of water

                          in mine

(do you remember when we watched the sea-bird

        with his head down

                and a white beard?)

Annnnnnnnnnnnnnd something not-mine that I love:

Cafe, Person Crying
by Sara Michas-Martin

The spirit unbundled like that

no place

proper to land

eye to eye                  out of reach

the meanwhile


imprecise

the shared quality

of accents


a need to level

continuously a script


burn spots                   standing quickly

after not standing


hard to judge

for instance

corners on most people


from the margins

guesswork


some things

born without aid

or antonym

it’s common in fading to ignore

a sigh let go


a short descent

radial sob

here                   in this room together


innumerable the ways

we are not.