Home

This name does not belong

to me-

This body will do

For mobility of the restless soul

Escape from all

This

killing ourselves

Sweet poisons of security

in a sense

Never enough

To fill the seams

To fit to the letter

To tie loose ends

Try to forget

Let go

without remembering

What it was

The name of something

That kept us.

Painting by 'Winslow Homer, 'The Green Hill' c. 1878, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons in Public Domain. 

My right, your left

It all worked out,
                      things, that is,
what are nows
                       are exactly how they
should have been
                       we never needed
to worry and plan
                       all that armament
and added security
                       all for nought
knowing it would be good
                       as the old days
back then when it was
                       too dark to see
ahead or two
                       eyes do nothing
but distract, in fact
                        you made it that way
blindly feeling
                        your way
past
                        ifs
extrasensory gifts
                        finding a fit
and working your way
                        back out.




Image of painting by George Frederic Watts, c. 1886, Hope [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.