Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Still Life on a Moving Train

At the entrance of cold
water Pisces
the slightest of snows
as juncos echo
ceaselessly
under eaves.
If I could not forgive myself
I wouldn't hear them
for fear that they would overcome
the gap of pain I am,
I wouldn't accept another realm
as a part of me,
I wouldn't know that forms are lies
we love to truth
instead I'd believe my eyes
were the lie.

A woman on the platform
is pretending not to cry...
a man does the worrying
for two...
and if I am honest
it is only inside me,
this drama,
or it is nothing,
for it was I who decided
to separate
at some toxic nub
from everything
and watch it fall
ever farther away,
too numb to see
it must connect with love
and turn to light
inevitably.
The winter sun,
loving and cold,
pulls shadows
from all things.

2 comments:

the walking man said...

Assumptions of what the eyes see, knowing an outcome before all factors are in, man's curse.



"If I could not forgive myself
I wouldn't hear them
for fear that they would overcome
the gap of pain..." Love this line for it's simple but brave truth.

erin said...

william))) i have been so absent.

"it must connect with love
and turn to light
inevitably."

as you say by my way,

"Why you even have to explain that the universe is sexual love is at least a minor tragedy..."

my god, how i smile at this!

but your poem and your point of separateness - story is so incredibly important, isn't it, and reality only a consequence.

it is good to read you.

xo
erin