Clay Feet

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to Lilith

 

I am no god to grant permission,

nor to watch your struggle

and pretend I know any more.

I want to lift you into the air,

to hug you close to my face, but

you are a grown woman now.

I flounder along in my own life.

The easy problems— to kiss

your stubbed toe, and all be okay—

have grown exponentially,

until I am as lost and incapable

as I think you feel. We all subsist,

scrabbling among the rocks searching

for that tasty bit of explanation

that will cause it all to fall neatly

into place, which never happens.

We are all lost in our worlds,

doing our best to love each other.

 

(July 3, 2018)

 

parallax

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“they go forwards past

the inclination

darkening corners to form”

–Clark Coolidge

 

you turned without seeing

the I half-a-step behind

 

you turned without seeing

the more obvious direction

 

the direction more obvious

to others standing apart

 

later this now blossomed

angles to bend new visions

 

you saw without turning

for they were all yours

 

ahead of you stumbling behind

the direction more obvious

 

if only the now could hold

despite its dark form hold

 

yet edges form corners

and corners form edges

 

as any form of redemption

turns and then turns again

 

(June 27, 2018)