“Do you know," Peter asked, "why swallows build in the eaves of houses? It is to listen to the stories.” ~ J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

4.23.2015

he was thinking 3 dimensionally

we were grocery shopping,
or really he was,
before i drove him home to his piece-of-shit shack,
and he was standing in front of all the cheeses,
standing befuddled, lost in space,
looking for the one he likes the best,
and i'll be honest, i wanted him gone,
(let's get this done and you home,
i love you but you're driving me crazy, crazy)
 so i asked what he was looking for,
there in the confusion of his eyes,
and he said a half moon cheese,
and he said i can't find it.

so i looked
and i saw crescent moons
and i saw full moons,
and then finally, there,
just where the display turned an oval corner,
a half moon.
this? i said, holding it up,
colby?, i said,
cause you know, what do i know?
and no, he said, a half moon,
like a ball, cut in half.

he could see the dark side of that moon when i could not,
and i understood for a moment the tower of babel.

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poem #3, for napowrimo
and for my brother
and for our inability to communicate.

4 comments:

  1. differently, yes, and that can be so hard sometimes!

    ReplyDelete
  2. so beautiful. finding moons on the supermarket shelves, I love it.

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  3. those last two lines, they sear my heart. your poetry has such a fabulous voice, i just want to keep listening.

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  4. i just found you accidentally
    but i have to say
    those words
    made me stop...
    in a good way.

    looking forward to reading more!

    ReplyDelete

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