you slip below the pavement
the slats of wood an inch apart sometime
and when Wednesday comes that song with
echoes
plays through from
your one ear and out your hair again
you are
spreading fingers to take in the peace
when weather takes you up in its indifferent embrace
it's warm enough to lay out
and cool enough to stay wet after
freezing swim
you slip below the surface
down where it's quiet for a mile on every side
so you swim on to below the pavement
light is split by the boards above
it hurts to look up anyway
blind steps take you by the eyes
you find yourself picking yourself up from your floor
ten minutes lost
gravel rash to the face
and that reverb pacing out the distance
from your inner ear to your domed dementia
starlings have set a nest there
and you climb down while ascending
stretch and accept this rippling call
cross the new waters
where you dived in
No comments:
Post a Comment