you have not shut off the lights --
you have only removed the heart from things,
as with a careful knife.
23.6.10
17.6.10
The Runner.
She sleeps with one leg tucked up, the other extending pointed toes. Her body is flung forward over a knee, her hands fisted with the effort of rest. At 22, she takes sleep, like she takes waking, in stride.
1.6.10
For my young sister, on her 17th birthday
Although we do not know just how
we look alike, or how we're known
as sisters at a glance, my guess
is our just-matching happiness,
each in the other's company.
A brightness in our faces, eyes --
a gladdening that halos time
for us, that halos us in time:
a manifest felicity.
How could we not be family?
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