Many things are too small
to be noticed at the time
rose to the top
when we were done.
like laying next to
your naked body at night,
or sharing a hot soup
in the winter, the smell
of clean laundry on Saturday.
But now new experiences are seamlessly
fused by the energy of absence-
the rush from fasting: a tailless
kite dipping and
spinning in the wind,
nothing to slow it, or to ground it back,
today's mirror reflection
like an echo in the valley:
all are weightlessness of
time in dreams.
August 29th 2011
Copyright Leaking Pen 2011
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem