Dedication to E
Missed Connections in Tucson
Dedication to E
Rilke’s arc of the heart’s swing
is a tunnel in the curved air
through which you may slide,
breath and sigh hemmed by breeze.
It has no side, but in the eye’s corner.
And verses of Easter and distance,
given in hope, deleted in grief,
or worn as heart rings,
one or both of the pair getting lost,
are neither alive, nor lie under stone.
For what it is. The letting go, now.
Not for the whole that choice would have made,
out in the dry fields to the side,
by the stony creek, under the oak tree
and its wide canopy.
One Year Ago: Lovelorn Poet in New York, NY: Unrequited Haiku
Her Two Cents from the Missed Connections Chief Bottle-Finder:
Sometimes I find a poem and I think for certain that it must have come from some other source – and then I’m pleasantly surprised when I discover otherwise. Just goes to show there’s lot of good, original material out there waiting to be discovered, read, and thought about.
