Leah Umansky

Be all of one day without divisions. When I and the birds awake, I watch the brass handles grow.   Then,  

as each thing beats quicker I feel the gong roar though
and the doors slam.

Here is another day moving — a speck of sun   or machine-sun; or a sail a-             coming…

I have fifty, sixty years to ____________.
I have not yet broken.

This is the beginning. There are hours and hours of light above the world.

I can let the day drop.

I let somebody  knock.

They ask questions. They interrupt. They throw it down.  
                   Down.

Posted 08/14/13

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