A poem a day in April from Rutgers English PhD students and friends.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

What's Different

Can take a photograph of deep
inside the forsythia, can count
stamens, can turn
until it focuses.

Can listen to Tori Amos as
you walk, not just before,
just after. Not just
afterglow.

Can see the streetlamps on the lake
and be alone. Can order
dinner. Can receive
texts, even.

The same, of course: the film of sweat.
The glimmer and the smell. Some
Tori Amos shame. The sky.
The heartbeat.

2 comments:

  1. This poem has like a twisting motion, perfect the tension. beautiful!

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