Grace Cavalieri
Grace Cavalieri
March 15, 2013

Truly a Problem of Reference

      It'll be a poem,
looking at the lines that
go side by side, if there resides a
shadow inside, a form not
too hurried, a little self important seed
sleeping at the center as if it's the only
truth there is.
      One day, you'll be
sitting on the edge of the poem like
a couch, and all across the room is filled
with eternity, all the
people you miss, and more of them
than ever, and the couch is getting so
      crowded, you walk across
the rug and join them. This
moment charms the birds
as they say, out of the trees,
and then you can see the shape inside,
where poetry moves. The desk softens.
      I warm quickly to the task
Immodestly forcing happiness
from everything held captive.
- Acknowledgment = INNISFREE

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