Saturday, February 12, 2011

The love dream.

Tell me again how you came to be my grandfather.

How if not for a peculiar dream in which you sprang from a fastmoving train,
Only to look back and
Find in intuition, or the poverty of a glimpse

Maple hair flying in the still and arrested minute--

How you could not look away,
How you could not even fall.
--not even continue to jump.

Tell me again, about that part of me in her
At that age.

No comments: