we
there are too many
poems to write just one
countless moments
remembered
only in the privilege
of our good luck
you and I
our oneness
made we
the thoughts we know
each the other
words recited at an altar
candles lit and candles left
the love, we know,
like some distant tide
(we've never seen together)
rushes and recedes
not alike, not at all
teaching each other
the power of difference
the mercy of forgiveness
no matter how angry,
the sideways smile of yours
with eyebrow arched
gets me every time
we laugh about
the little old couple
who sits in front of us at church
snapping at each other
condescending looks
seen through the wrinkles
but they leave
hand in hand
like us
you and I
made we
poems to write just one
countless moments
remembered
only in the privilege
of our good luck
you and I
our oneness
made we
the thoughts we know
each the other
words recited at an altar
candles lit and candles left
the love, we know,
like some distant tide
(we've never seen together)
rushes and recedes
not alike, not at all
teaching each other
the power of difference
the mercy of forgiveness
no matter how angry,
the sideways smile of yours
with eyebrow arched
gets me every time
we laugh about
the little old couple
who sits in front of us at church
snapping at each other
condescending looks
seen through the wrinkles
but they leave
hand in hand
like us
you and I
made we
posted by Melissa at 1:44 PM
1 Comments:
this reads like Whitman--in short lines...
in fact it is a couple of long lines interestingly made short, fragmented like our days , hopes, expectations are. I like it--it is you, but different, too.
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