we swim through unseen things,
the time far gone when we might
reasonably expect doors and pans
and laughter to be only themselves.
no, the thingness of things at every
moment falls away from every
object, gesture, and word as husks
from shining kernels, as veils
from holy, eager, brightfaced brides.
i wake each morning terrified yet
fascinated by the weight of sheets,
the wild symbolism of scattered laundry,
the perfect danger of what the day will bring.


3 thoughts on “sight

  1. @slpm: thanks, i like the last line too. i was a bit worried it would be too “all-tied-up” but i think it works ok.

    @lindsay: oy! thanks for the compliment! flattery is never creepy, right? 😉 thanks so much for reading.

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