What I Read

A woman went to the North
to live between the mountains
away from the world, and it
was there that she wrote about
the mainstream news stories
you and I read on a regular
basis. Her premise discussed
how inconsequential it is for
trains to crash and awards to
be given and mild rain to
pass through and new hires
to be announced (some of these
were made up for effect) when
you live in the wilderness. I
suppose out there a person’s
perception changes and isn’t
so centered on being better
than they were the day prior.
Anyway, I have not viewed
news in the same light since
reading her words, and am
adding a few of my own here
so that you might make your
own decision on what I read.

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Send

This article
I think
might be
appreciated
by you

It has been
three and
one half
years but
why not

I open a
new email
message
and type
the note:

Thought you
might like
to read this
so just
sharing


And look
your city is
mentioned
among the
others


I am sure
this will
spark an
exchange
and soon

It is only
two minutes
until I am
notified:
undeliverable

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At the Gate

Once the race is run
don’t the horses circle back
counter clockwise across
the same turf where once
they stood inside the gate
muscles warmed, minds
furlongs in the future.
Isn’t it also true that in
running the final stretch
they return to the place
new races will unfold?
If I were a horse consider
me ready to be loaded in,
not for the first time,
listening closely for the
bell in the way that I once
was a mare inside a gate
waiting my turn to run
and would like to again

December 30, 2019

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Best Dress

I have slipped into you,
put you against my skin,
You learned my walk by
holding pendulum hips,
took a place in my home,
often hung by the door
to my bedroom – I can’t
recall how many times
I’ve looked over from bed
to see you waiting for me
and thought how lucky
to have found each other

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Innateness

Even in moments you point and announce
that is the North Star” clearly, but I do not
know up from down from east from west,
night from dawn from good decision or not,
even in this spinning compass confusion
the truth of ourselves it spills forth
seeps into stories as the sea to old boats
says remember that you are in my grasp
and without needing directions
nor want for light on the harbor
the animal innateness of ourselves
in the way gravity is never not there
finds the way to show itself

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Weeks or Months

How long will it be?
We have been watching the moon
which waxes and wanes and
renews itself and brings,
usually, decent fortune

We have boarded the plane
taken seats by the window
settled in for a movie
preparation is done

I read the journal back to front,
an order that makes sense
to a brain most intent
on knowing endings

How long now?
Until life has changed enough that
the current era is only seen by
standing at the window,
looking through a glass

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