what is--
from what depths, this
strange, rising warmth
on the lip
of panic, spreading
slow through my mind
I sit, hunched
but something in me
is wheeling
across another sky
a slit of which
slivers the dark
beneath my ribs
I can feel the distance
only in the spreading
of its wings
yet something is flying
within my bones
and I sit, enclosed
insensate
blind and dumb
and tasting only--the heady
bunching and un-bunching
of its muscles
beneath its skin
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2 comments:
you were always good and I can say for sure.. you are even better!!
I've lost my poetry.. havent written anything since ages.. not even something as perfunctory as an email.. been through another hell ..of late.. so you know... but really missed your poems.. there aren't many I follow regularly ..
I am hoping to get inspired by you .. :)
nah-ah... you can't lose it, I don't think you can lose it--even if you go walking through hell--because it's also a kind of fire, eh?
... but you couldn't have given me a better compliment--b/c a) I wasn't sure if was getting any better, and b) reading your work has changed the way I write.
... and when you get your feet under you... send something back my way--for me to chew on. ;)
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