Thursday, September 23, 2010

Inexactly

Inexactly

Doors are opening,
the wind whispers
“Today” and
“Today” and
“Today” and it feels like
something is coming.
A day like this lets
me believe that
I have a right to
exist--
a day like this lets
me pay back the past.
It’s the kind of day to
visit gravesides, tombstones,
to walk nude in the forest,
to sing for strangers.
A day to drive with
all the windows down,
to smell purity.
But I know I’m
only human,
that it’s still
just the world.
I know it’s not
heaven...
not
exactly.

©JEF 1992

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