Monday, August 11, 2014

Crowded

This room feels crowded 
even though there are just two of us.
His head on the pillow, mine in my hands.
I stand by his bed 
as if he were learning to lie in it, 
as if I were his teacher, the one
who walks alongside the bike 
the child is learning to ride.
All our feelings mull around us 
like munching cows, 
sometimes touching as they wait 
to be milked 
but the hours pass and nothing is spoken, 
everything abided.

Deep down

Deep down in the stem itself, 
in my body’s engine 

where energy becomes breath, pulse, 
where pores are forced to sweat 
and salt to move through me--

there, down there,

lies my terror. 

In the zenith of that day to come 
my eyes will close half way

and Ill be alone again 

as in that jiffy before my creation.

I'll be tossed into a cold
of no stars, 

melting 

as I fly, 

a wavering glow, 

my pieces 

bright points of light
that come and then go

like glitter from a lake 

and deep down 

I know 

no ghost 

will step out 

from that beautiful 

debris.