Sunday, September 19, 2010
Unsmitten
Unsmitten
Regrets never happen on their own. They do not arrive
unbidden, unbound. They are whiskered into being by a wish, a kiss,
a fist. They are sought, maneuvered, wrought--not found.
When morning comes, whatever its guise, awaken--take it
in and walk away--a bit bitten, but more wise. Press hard into
whatever needs revision. Be unheld, unleashed--not undone.
Be unsmitten.
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This is so good, I can hardly stand it. Because I am on the road, an abbreviated, highlight of the love: two threes in the first three, um, and THE RHYME. AND two threes in the second AND THE RHYME!!!!!!
ReplyDeleteWhiskered makes me happy because it is like whisking...you work hard, actually, to peak egg whites (or whatever) to get this tender, fragile thing (regret-wish kiss fist)...
And morning, whatever its guise! REALLY?!?! No matter what shape the awakening takes! When the light bulb goes off, don't worry. Press your bruise, remember how you got it, and know it heals.
WTF!???? You, my dear, are the genius. And that hummingbee. Also genius. But you. Genius. Your poems always make my heart open more. I love them so.