2.15.16

Weekend words for you from the long weekend. 

2-10-16

In front of me is a table of water.

I am unsure if it is earthy

because I am afraid to break the glass.

There are people who inhabit the layers,

gilled breathing of silt and minerals,

and slowing being made into geodes,

but I can’t get to them.

And there are people above,

stretched by the height of the sky, spindly and

feathery, moving with a slow grace

and knowing eye.

These two are not opposites

and I do not have to choose between the two.

I try to speak, but my open mouth

abandons me.