O for a windfall of care, to take us through
the unkindness of days. The kind of care
not afraid of touch, not afraid to come close,
you know? To ask Are you OK? Maybe
even to hug. The world is full of hard things
no one wants to talk about, even if we
really wish we could just let the moment lead
from the cultivated labor of surfaces to
the awkward surrender of our innermosts. I wish
we could sit without fidgeting, talk without
thinking of the quickest escape. Let's tell each
other, before they skitter like rocks into a well,
what words we've had to invent sometimes, to signal
that we want to talk about love or being alive.
Purveyors of fine poetry since 2003.
