Listen:
eyes desperate
hands frantic
at the bottom of
through and through
her bag
a fleeting glimpse of her
on the street
even now holds me with her
looking for
what we cannot find
in the bag
Listen:
eyes desperate
hands frantic
at the bottom of
through and through
her bag
a fleeting glimpse of her
on the street
even now holds me with her
looking for
what we cannot find
in the bag
I tell myself
is not working
in fall it fails
to catch fire
in winter it no longer
keeps me warm
in spring it cannot see
itself grow
summer comes
it will not play
it is time
to change
my story
to imagine
there is
in me
the authority
the courage
the downright
in your face
guts
to forgive
is
a knife
cutting
through
water
to know
is
to know
with
I lift them
from the road
hold them even as
they hold me
for my thoughts
they question me
in the economy
between us
it is enough
to pay
attention
swallow
fire
become
engine
not
metal
it makes sense
to leave the past
for room to breathe
to leave the future
for the present
leave to remain
a jazz of blood
called
child
I am
preposition:
a present
to present
in
the present
Through my bedroom window
this came
to me
I still
bow