poem for tiffanie

these: your unburdened arms, a lifted leg to cross
over one and lean back, your hands on your feet
listening to gram parsons and filling out postcards to
the netherlands where one friend was lost
for weeks, found in dark bars, reading kant
a series of coffee cups and measurements
of days turn out so much like asterics
and raised lettering for the blind
but how slowly we translate into thoughts
what means so much

these: your careful footing on stairwells
and a satchel of books
across your shoulders, a line of ageless beauty
true takes new shapes daily, i am stupified
by your overdone anthologies of careful wordings
your settled feet on floors, your shimmery skirts,
movement that comes from the same makers as fountains
and scuplture.

these: your fingers across canopy arches,
your ever-clicking camera eyes
that lend you so slow to the sea
carried away like the greatness of Pollock
and the fingers he studied so carefully
before working; shouldn't it be more like solar flares
and chances to build great cathedrals, named and tried to match your glances

these: your knotting hands pressing hemp-rope through pages
putting together a story of
you lost, you won sometimes
the better of us'll burn for what we've done
and you'll be there, taking mental notes and undeerstanding why

2004-06-22 | 6:57 p.m.
0 comments so far