like the river

My bare toes peek over the steel beams
contemplating the water that calls them home.
It isn’t fear that keeps me from the edge,
                     but the impulse to jump.

The wind sits in my chest like a song
       like the smell of your promises,
       like the outstretched reach

of unforgiven pages, sacrificed in honor
               of the little sparrow. For him I ask the river
for reflection, but the sage replies, “I’ve known you
longer than that.”

And I’ve known the shape of your back
   silhouetted against the time you moved,
   like water, on my hardwood floors.

The tapestry of tomorrow hung on my walls
begging you to read what I cannot surrender.


About ky

Poet. Photographer. Writer. Goddess. View all posts by ky

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