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Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 3293 Registered: 11-1998 |
Honorable Mention Hands Emusing When I placed my hand inside a magic box, I discovered you, knowing I was reaching into a past, into soft and familiar woods. I could walk upon you as I would on summer's moist grass. Opening, you tore out like a gust. My arms became darkened hills arching above slow rivers. You carried dusk, held its lamplight for the late night warbler. Who else to keep night safe? A coyote cried and my face became a future, a word that waited to be said. At night, I take you to bed. You fill me with milky stems of moonlight, edges of stars, night blooms of cereus. Asleep I could run your streets, wing down from a cliff of clouds, open as a baby's hand -- its small curves ready to hold the moon. |
