Thursday, October 14, 2010

Be Still

What morning does is trick you
into thinking someone's just left
to go to the bathroom or is drinking
tea at the big table or is simply thinking of you.
You think someone is there but they are long gone.
Morning makes you think you can solve problems,
do math, send thoughts and change
minds. Morning is as light and chewy
as an instrument of war or cuisine. Be still
my heart, when I run through the traces
of last night, those rosy fingers of dawn lift
my dorky heart into now.
This is what I have, so I'll do with it
what I must. Oh, be still.

4 Comments:

Blogger joanna said...

I like this poem a lot!

9:43 AM  
Anonymous Kimberly said...

This is a real beauty.

10:03 AM  
Blogger Hannah Miet said...

Sigh.

6:18 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hard to explain, good poem.

8:43 PM  

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