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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