Adam J. Gellings
Ars Poetica
Say that it’s like this —
somewhere
above the paint drying on the fence post
above
the murder of prose balancing on thin wires
of light
above
where the field path you’ve walked more
than a hundred times begins
to wear you down.
Say it changes every time. Today
it is rich with chokecherries
& buckthorn.
The way those names explode in your mouth
like small bundles of firewood.
Say that they are not yours.
Let them go.
Let them drift somewhere
above the changing seasons
the midnights & the dawns
above
where it becomes difficult to breath.
On some unexpected day, say
at the end of summer. When the hours are running on empty
& the days seem to become
quieter.
Reach for them.
In the clear air that keeps you.
In the shadows that begin to darken the trail at dusk.
Let them light a little fire for you. Let them leave you
remembering the way it’s looking now.
Glass: A Journal of Poetry is published monthly by Glass Poetry Press.
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