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Monday, December 27, 2010

antler

the frost passed the time
running its fingers
through the woods

picking and pulling
until everything
was still

i crossed the line
without ever acknowledging
the bridge

and when i shook her hand
previous nights, laid calm
turned to glass

we spoke in tongues
and never once
spoke a vowel

hung in the knotted absence
of retrospect
in windows and door frames

where exits
and entrances
convolute

2 comments:

marina said...

reading this made me restless. it felt like i almost could grasp something that i was trying to reach for so long. it was so close this time. but it did slip away. again.

seth elkins said...

i like that my work can provoke anyone to feel anything at all. so i'll take that as a compliment.