When I stand still
and press
my hand on the wall
or my feet
on the floor,
I can feel my heart
pump
slowly.
When I close my hand
into a fist,
I can see the blue veins,
the stiff tendons,
the hard bones,
and the shadows in between.
If there's a bruise,
I can identify
every color.
When I stand
on the front porch,
I can hear the clock upstairs
mark
every
second
just as it does
when there's nobody there
to hear.
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Comments
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This is a very interesting piece - the final stanza is a particular favourite - I like the idea that the clock continues to tick even for no one - or so it seems to me. Yes, interesting.
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