A poem from Ripped Railway Tickets

 

Not Knowing

 

Eyes glued in front, immersed in distractions,
I saw no way I could live
with you.  Instead I stayed busy, seeking other gifts,
I was sure I’d arrived deserving.
As I exhale, each moment becomes a ghost.
And nothing was as it is exactly.
I still can’t live with you,
lost inside my flesh, aware there is only now;
each breath a text, each stroke a school,
my eye, a dangerous muscle.

           

Copyright © 2006 by Michele Harvey