It’s like when you see a child in an
standing at a light, sucking her lip,
waiting for the traffic
to pass and in one glance you’ve taken in
she’s forgotten oranges at the store,
found a coin
in the bottom of her torn pocket and she’s
from the coat lining, looking as if she’s
just waiting for the light.
It’s when you know for sure, the night’s
having already claimed
you long enough and there was no dawn
with its bright rain
that grandeur is everywhere, even in
wish for love. It’s even about grief marrying
sadness, the whole world bursting and still
it has nothing
to do with the shiny currencies
In the dark you can begin
to feel yourself lean in like a hand might
tack toward what is there
even if what’s there is all that you don’t want.
around you then like a wind’s sudden arrival
releasing the trees
for a moment reveals the opening
you can walk through.
Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 17, Issue 4.
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