Wednesday, February 04, 2015
Glimpse
No matter I think
As I try to take a similar stance;
I can do this.
I can park away every longing.
It will lock up like my body
and freeze in time.
A poet set in stone.
Still, I point out the dream
and the dream, and the dream
I am sitting with these.
Perhaps I am ill prepared, but they don’t go away.
Do you still hear me as
a distant motion through the night?
I see the radiance in the jetting of morning birds
before the jerk of the grasp that takes me to that place
that blurs me under.
I sit in your lap.
The moment is listening
for spectators.
This sweet diminishes with the
track-lights that bring up the crowd.
Even in the brevity of the moment,
I am rendered speechless.
Here in my waking, it is even worse.
I feel like somebody else that knew you
In a different lifetime.
There it is, burning in me like an
attachment to a child.
Greener than the evergreens,
sparkling.
It’s with such sorrow, we are so mortal in this place.
© 03 Feb 2015 -Sonja J Johnston
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