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The product of a stagnant class is a beautiful poem?

August 29, 2006

(“Sight Out of the Window”)

Wave the glass of ages-
Magnolia leaves ripple
with wind and with time.
I can see blocks of color,
on a body,
run up and back,
catch, release, catch.
It is him.
whom I have waited days (or was it weeks?
years?) to see:
Tense with the dreading
of his profile, his walk, his voice–
He whom I once loved
and do
still love.
Though there can be no “with” or “in” (love)-
for he is elsewhere, outside,
Running, in waving glass frames,

And I am here
on the inside
with someone new
someone kinder, gentler, more beautiful.
With whom I am not “in” love.
but whose long frame fits mine,
curved to my curve,
and not rigid,
like windowpanes (pains) of glass.
but, twisting and touching –him to me–
I ripple under blankets,
(clear and fragile)
sigh with pleasure,

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