Saturday, December 27, 2014

a poem for my wife

little things turn out not to be.
in fact, they echo & bounce &
sweep you away in a wave, or
a dance, or a dream...

much of you remains a mystery --
always something new to discover,
revelations around each corner, hidden
in pockets, imbedded in words, letters
enveloped between sheets.

vision only gets you so far
as the eye is so easily fooled,
needs constant reassurance.

vision gets you so far--
lifting you to dream a dream, embodied
in each moment & hope with legs & skin,
envisioning each possible future. every
time this thought includes you.