52 SONGS

...the letter killeth, but the spirit giveth life...

Friday, March 3, 2017

3. Backyard Sitting, Sipping

The day stood open, sky like clear
water, jet the color of fish
in a serene, sun-soaked lake.
Cup in my hand, half-full,
hand extension of will, unexamined
in habit and action—Thought through,
but not by me.

My arm lifts the cup to my lips.
The open door’s a hinge in the system,
encouraging, allowing movement
and vision avenues into other worlds.
You inside, the sounds you make
as you work a recognizable grammar,
a voice. Your love: engine-
flowering energy, troubled but present.

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