l o o k i n g a t p o e m
nose nose. mirror close.
smell poem’s breath. poem
breathes mine. steam reveal,
fingers paint. inhale, lay
disguised under sheets.
poem inside, doesn’t sleep.
here, feel, dusty feet.
cat leaps onto bed. unfed, leaves.
some poems too, closing their eyes.
mother father, child. reflection bears
no fault. if you had a thousand eyes
that’s exactly who I’d be for you.
language contains this bowl. monarch
wings. see how they heel counter
compass into lofted wind. see
how poem measures itself. knotted
twine that holds the sway.
some other sail, bent, bitten word.
what calls itself, newmoon face.
poem, mirror, me.
and when it stands alone, one breath,
the way wind breathes on leaves
neil reid © 2014 february
maybe possibly the first in a group, not so much “progressive” but looking to say what this poem really wants to really say. ie. if a poem could speak, what would it want to say? (without my help to stir up the mud)
go see the WWP prompt, if for nothing else save the video included.
about poems, about you