July 28, 2007 § Leave a comment

Was it for nothing in particular
or for the swollen flood of fragments
I can no longer count as memories
that love comes more easily,
and love for more things

with fewer apologies,
less camouflage,
more pungently,
a bit clumsily,

as if all this light is new.
These breezes have combed out the knots.

My heart, less tightly wound,
is warmer, fatter, noisier,
and beaming
boldly, simply,
like the sun.

May 2007

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

What’s this?

You are currently reading Untangling at Poems.


%d bloggers like this: