Escape the utmost hour don’t
Stop
shouting at divine September
Fill the air between a mother’s open hands
Let words fall like footsteps in a stranger's house
Teach
a daughter how to fold the years
So
neatly in a purse or pocket
Embrace things as Frank O'Hara said
Freely and with the appropriate sense of space
Kick
leaves
Scatter
platitudes across a broad lawn
Speak
strangely sonorous names
Say
perhaps the last day never ends this hazy
Be
unforeseen forty paces hence give
Life
to small things you can’t remember
Ask
for just one bullet preferably silver
Press
a blade against the glittering river
Fly
a kite into the burnished clouds
Glowing
in your sunglasses
No comments:
Post a Comment