Saturday, December 24, 2005
what matters and where it is
It’s in the core and tip,
and on the tongue,
and in the air,
and what the air stirs on,
and in the tangle of her hair;
and the mittens
lined with fur
he handled as a boy
to walk in winter night
and collect the snow.
It is the urgent
and disabled Now,
first shadowed,
second memory-bright.
and on the tongue,
and in the air,
and what the air stirs on,
and in the tangle of her hair;
and the mittens
lined with fur
he handled as a boy
to walk in winter night
and collect the snow.
It is the urgent
and disabled Now,
first shadowed,
second memory-bright.
Labels: poesies
// posted by H. Brown @ 6:53 PM 