MOST BEAUTIFUL WHEN LIT BY REFLECTIONS
Trappers are making new
Paths through the Siberian tundra
While in the cafe
I order plain
And feel
Proud of what I'm not sure:
I am not that man.
I am not her.
When I sleep
Alone in the bed
I measure
My loneliness as it could
Be or was:
Unfurling like the flag
Of a country I know
But will never visit.
The rain not raining
Is threatening. We live
In houses built on ditches.
My friend says
Empathy comes from literature.
Imagination equals
Compassion. I wanted
To hump the sagebrush
In those Steinbeck
(Or was it Stegner)
Passages. It's true:
A word gets inside, moves.
In the store the man
Tried to sell me
A shirt. Excuse me
I said and left.
My friends are making
Babies in several
States. I show my students
Famous images and ask
Them how it feels.
When the world begins
Its implosion, skies
Raining ash, I can't
Promise to be brave.
I may squiggle naked
In the road, a rainbow.
Posted 02/20/13