Emily Kendal Frey

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

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Comments (1)

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I think this is beautiful. Thank you.	Andy Stallings 02/20/13 12:07pm