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Thursday, April 18, 2024

to be of a short while


temporary is a noticing style,

a glance as an intake,

a summary in a word,

looking at a stereotypical maze 

of facials ever presenting,

a conclusion made

as if, 

an almost unnoticed swallow,

a yogic yawn, 

looking for a new thought, 

upon return,

the incessancy of reading, 

when it leaves 

the line-by-line of a page,

facing a bargain, 

that seems so summary unimpressive,

stoic standing file-drawers, 

that have no reason 

to ever be opened again,

an attentive cab driver, 

driving in the prison 

of familiar road weary,

staring at a book-face, 

as if it is a chore 

to open to words,

debating a personal blood wound, 

to bandage or not,

the way familiar is like 

being aware of 

too much saliva in the mouth,

the way recognition is like 

a greeter line 

for next thoughts.

so, instead,

dearly hold my hand, 

to awaken me . . .

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