Wednesday, April 19
HOW I MIGHT SOUND IF I LEFT MYSELF ALONE
Turning to watch you leave,
I see we must always walk toward
other rooms, river of heaven
between two office buildings.
Orphaned cloud, cioppino poppling,
book spined in the open palm. Unstoppable light.
I think it is all right.
Or do tonight, garden toad
a speaking stone,
young sound in an old heart.
Annul the self? I float it,
a day lily in my wine. Oblivion?
I love our lives,
keeping me from it.
(Lisa Russ Spaar)