atlantic beach . ann packard
wouldn't you say,
wouldn't you say: one day,
with a little more time or a little more patience, one might
disentangle for separate, deliberate, slow delight
one of the moment's hundred strands, unfray
beginnings from endings, this from that, survey
say a square inch of the ground one stands on, touch
part of oneself or a leaf or a sound (not clutch
or cuff or bruise but touch with finger-tip, ear-
tip, eyetip, creeping near yet not too near);
might take up life and lay it on one's palm
and, encircling it in closeness, warmth and calm,
let it lie still, then stir smooth - softly, and tendril by tendril unfold, there on one's hand ... one might examine eternity's
cross-section
for a second, with slightly more patience, more time for reflection?
a.s.j. tessimond. 1934
miserable days ahead in more ways than one
8 hours ago