What noun
would you want
spoken on your skin
your whole life through?
-Mark Doty
Wren. I considered
open-mouthed words - love,
honor, even melancholy
for the sound of it -
afraid I might waste
this chance, like the one wish.
Then I remembered last Thursday's
small brown bird on the rail,
its head tilted back
in what I imagined sudden joy,
though I know its trill,
sweet and full,
rose from the breast of instinct,
the throat of an ordinary day.
(c) Susan Meyers, Keep and Give Away
Showing posts with label Susan Meyers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Susan Meyers. Show all posts
Friday, July 11, 2008
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