#Poem Why is this Street Important?

Just a hill-road from my past
but it strokes me like hot mittens,
suede or sheepskin, stirring up
not one story but many,
confusingly multiple, each touch
a start of one adventure,
or an end, or a middle,
messily overlapped, blended layers,
left hands and right hands,
rubbing and squeezing,
a knotted shoulder eased here,
a cramped calf soothed there,

sure, a kindly bludgeoning,
without question,
but I wanted laser-clarity;
a pin-pointed transcript;
itemised progress.

(Humbly, I suggest, I might
have stumbled onto something
far wiser than I could ever invent.)

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s