Saturday, July 24, 2010

Scenes Of A Domestic Life

in moments of dust and color
home, a dark hutch, waits
beyond blooming

full bellied life
lined with objects on
every shelf, breathing
the glint of their thing-ness

my eyes crack open
to plain significance
when morning asks for more

for the desperate wish
of breathing my own
glint
handled gently so
as one handles an orb,

I river through each
room of home
plucking here and there
the wilt
of life and togetherness

1 comment:

  1. Your words have such a beautiful sound, gentle, yet strong and intellectual. You use words in such a pleasingly surprising way. I love your style. This poem moves me.

    Your fan,
    Karole L.

    "for the desperate wish
    of breathing my own
    glint
    handled gently so
    as one handles an orb" -just wonderful.

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