Posts Tagged ‘quietude’




Arriving at the starting line

I think of the marathon to come—

somewhere there’s a man


with a gun and a timer.

Somewhere there’s another line

I hope to cross.


Somewhere there’s a woman

who doesn’t know there is a race.

She knows only that the juncos


have come, and if she is still enough

she can see their white tail feathers

flashing in flight.

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Sorrow happens, hardship happens, the hell with it, who never knew the price of happiness, will not be happy.
—Yevgeny Yevtushenko

Just as the splinters
slip in a bit deeper
beneath the bruise, just

as the clench in my
chest clenches tighter,
just as the tap roots

of ache push lower
into my groin and tease
new depths of darkness,

it occurs to me, soft
as sheepskin, weightless
as being swung off my feet,

how lucky it is to love, and though
the roots still reach
their terrible reach,

and the splinters slip in,
oh please, not so deep,
there is a strange

joy that blooms
in my cheeks
like cherry stain,

like joy.

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