the call of geese
reminds me;
of time and time –
it reminds me
of this thing
we call time.
Tag: self
a figure with
long legs stretches
shadows blur the
hands upon skin
two figures now
shadows merge
them together
one being with
long legs stretching
now, it is cold here.
my back stiff, like a plank.
a million times
and still my first.
“okay, jeremiah..”
but i ignore the rest –
i know the routine,
this is my first time
after a million.
i want to say, “thank you”
as they look,
as my body is searched
for disease,
but i am tired.
so i lay still,
my back stiff and still,
like a plank;
after a million times,
yet always my first.
breathe.
i have not forgotten how to,
but i wonder
how i learned.
these breaths i hold,
have you also tasted
the same air?
how did i learn this?
who held my mouth open
and put these words
in it,
words like “i”
and “you.”
i find the words alone.
i sip hot tea alone.
there are no longer questions
about its worth.
alone is sacred.
sacred fingertips
gentle touch
a sound
no words
none
I thought, ‘this is all there is.’
It was such a normal thought,
as though I had had this belief a hundred times.
It is a reexamination of so very much.
It might seem apathetic or numb.
it wasn’t –
It was true,
human – it is so very human.
the
the driiiiiping snowmelt
snow –
melt
with a bird singing…… it says
something –
always some thing something
some
thing
i waaaant to
speak the laaaaangue
of birds.
we still breathe as one
inhalations together
exhalations together
a rhythmic cycle
that is endless
it’s 3°f outside.
the house seems
to be moaning;
it’s releasing these
sounds i have never heard.
“i understand,”
i say aloud,
consoling the empty space.
it’s brutally cold outside.
i was thinking
that maybe
i should build a fire.
i should do
a lot of things –
a lot of things.
but instead
i just sit and drink coffee.
it is tepid;
black,
and strong.
from the couch,
under my blanket,
sipping coffee so strong
it could strip paint,
i look at the fireplace
and think about the things
i should do.
but doing
often takes saying
and i hate my words.
too many thoughts,
too many feelings,
and a distrust
of my mouth and
that which will fall
from it.
so i sit and
i sip my coffee.
and listen to the house,
as the frigid day
takes its toll on her.