Sunday, November 30, 2014


She is....
Bowl as face.  Face as bowl.
Facing the kitchen is akin to facing a poem
with an expectation of being fed
food & story.

1 comment:

  1. She faces again the letter on the table
    the light has turned to afternoon
    and her attention to the work at hand
    leaving it there would save it from tearing apart
    not paying attention to it would keep it alive
    it is just a piece of paper, she thinks,
    but what about the book reports they did as kids
    the laughter and glue and cut out pictures?
    She can't be the only one who remembers these things
    how lonely if that's true
    how necessary is it to find out if that's true?