Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Remarkable things

The most remarkable things
are often tiny surprises.

Quick intakes
of breath, the lungs' equivalent
of a glimpse
caught
through a window,

A stare thought
to have an inappropriate length,
lost in pondering.

A new nest,
the size of a soup spoon's
bowl.

Every moment holds
a possible miracle. Every blink
may reveal
the dream that steals
away
on the softest feet
the quietest fog.

These remarkable things rush
past, bubbles on water.

Our charge is to collect them.
Catalog
their character,
savor, share, remember.

***
Many of you have asked to see my poetry. I have not written for pleasure in a long time, though I think in verses often. It is photographic and involuntary. 


I have no idea how to read my own poems, nor really where they come from. I'm certain that they are both lovely and terrible, but here they are. Ephemeral, works in progress, incomplete. Probably embarrassing, but I don't know any better, and frankly, I don't really care.


For me, poems are a protest. A refusal to lose the things I hold dear. A memory. A moment cherished, and shared. 

1 comment:

  1. Oh my, this poem brought tears to my eyes. You are truly a poet my friend. I love the line...every blink may reveal the dream that steals away on the softest feet the quietest fog...This is pure beauty, I plan on reading this poem over and over again. Love.

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