Heart Happy (cathy_edgett) wrote,
Heart Happy
cathy_edgett

Morning Poem -



One Moment, the Next

 

The sky is one pink blush this morning

pulled like a sail by the moon last night.

 

I sit with blood pulsed clear

before the jackknife.

 

The tractor

and trailer

fold, like a fan, then, open,

straight, as unripe steel.   

 

Which is more vulnerable,

the fetal curl,

or the width of the stance?

 

The air pouring into the spiral of the shell

is a probe

a lance.

 

The ear opens sound

with two hands

like an otter, a clam.

 

A straight line leans

to dimension

sinks and rises like ink on paper

changes where it lands. 

 

I reach within and pull nesting dolls,

connected as paper cut-outs,

lead them to convex, concave,

change the shape of the lens.  

 

I do this over and over again.

With each breath,

a bend unbends

and leans close again.


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