Tuesday, October 18, 2005


The sun
is bright copper wires
laced through the spaces
between the leaves
holding together
this green secret safety
with the tension
of plucked strings.
I lie face up
on this small wooden platform
high above caring
listening to the slight wind
watching the wires
dance and cross
deliberately thinking
Somewhere below
in the harsh open light
is the shouting discord
that still shivers
ragged harmonics
the hollow in my chest.
But I breathe
and the unheard sounds
inside me
vibrate to silence
until only the wind
is in my mind,
and the cat's cradle
of bright copper wires.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

In almost every poem you've posted, there's at least one line that really grabs me. It makes me think of one thing in terms of another, as I never have before. In this poem, it's the idea of sun as copper wire with the tension of plucked strings. It's perfect.