Wednesday, April 30, 2014

Poetry Wednesday


We were pacing,
cross-eyed from the bars of our cage as we looked
at the animals,
telling them from a distance
That we loved them terribly,

For you, the matted and white-whiskered
were the dearest,
but I felt for the wooly giants, nose-at-kneecap-high,
crashing through these shallows.

We found ourselves lowered,
bowed by cravings edge-by-edge with need.
The waiting would astound us, but
(the waiting has not astounded us yet!)

Annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnd something not-mine that I love:

Losing Track
by Denise Levertov

Long after you have swung back
away from me 
I think you are still with me: 

you come in close to the shore 
on the tide 
and nudge me awake the way 

a boat adrift nudges the pier: 
am I a pier 
half-in half-out of the water? 

and in the pleasure of that communion 
I lose track, 
the moon I watch goes down, the 

tide swings you away before 
I know I’m 
alone again long since, 

mud sucking at gray and black 
timbers of me, 
a light growth of green dreams drying.

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