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ewippermann's blog
Bright Star
I want to get
older with you
read in
bed with you
every night
like tonight
we've got
time but
that bright star
looking through
our dark window
the reflection
more beautiful
than this what
happens when
the water's too
tired to clean
our human shores
the air too
thick to see
stars caught in
fall trees'
capillaries
choking
well I'll be
listening
to your
tender breath
I'll be more
steadfast than
that nightlight
sleep sound to
your soft fall
and swell
dreaming of
waking with
you of
waking
with you.
Poem for Our Youth
We're old
enough to know
we're young,
this winter's snow
shining far as
we can see
which isn't far
but sure is
beautiful.
Nothing is
as pure as this
and it isn't.
However we walk
soft this solstice
through our mother's
bare forests
whiter than our
mind before dreams.
The sky darkens
early and our
parents sleep.
I hold your
hand and
we go bravely
into that
sweetness.
Waking
up with the wide
end of an August morning
you turned into the
warm sheet of sun
brushing your cheek --
whatever god is
I found it in your
flushed breath when with
a close-eyed smile you
folded me into your sleep
and I fell deep in the
glow of your collarbone
a ridge of yellow
rustling birch a susserous
that murmured dream
in the amber below
the canopy of your hair --
god it was there.
Delhi
Look at us hiding on the roofs!
Atop hotels and restaurants lining
the square looking at
each other's blanched faces
looking at
the street
below:
souped crowds
rickshaws and bikes
bellowing through the smoking
trash that I
feel is all our fault
and the cows, just
eating it
beside the hawkers'
cries,
a woman
in yellow, a glimmer
hair so neatly
plaited
is weaving in
the thick
throngs
and out
and out
finding no
one's eye
especially
not mine
on the roof
watching.