Analogical Possibility


it’s as if then love
tosses about like insomniacs
the night pretends a solace
as the day begins again
then love flits away
before we wake to see
as chance drops a coin
then another on the table
a third falls into doubt
three coins tossed six times
it’s as if hope echoes you
with each metallic ping
such as much as this
and thus we read each
random crack across
the ice from which we
walk as if it’s then safe
enough to search for you
yet there’s the rub if ever
enough can be enough for
love ripples out through out
each of the shores we wander
until we wake with chance
into each other’s darker night
(August 2012)

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