A poem on the unknown

May 1, 2016

5-1-2009

These margins of error are

emerald green and flattened from

frequent padding, but don’t mar

 

the passage enclosed, instead form

eyelines and sleeping spaces,

climb a ladder and rock in warm

 

rail motion. Far distant places

roll just outside the right just-

ification. A footnote raises

 

my head above shifting dust

like a full feather pillow

above white sheets. They say we must

 

sleep, so sleep soundly! follow

waves and clear bell rings

in between the lines, fields fallow

 

and dark, new buds pushed up fingers

around pencils, rubbed out erasure,

dream and wake to see what the sun brings.

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