Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Book Preview, Part 2

It's been a crazy week for this writer...so I'm going to take the easy road and offer up another poem from Liveaboard.  

Our bridge of sighs
is a metal ramp with foot holds:

on one end, the wooden
dock, the green river, sweet with grasses.

On the other, a parking
lot, an industrial complex, a highway.

We traverse ours
every morning, the ring of boots

a gavel striking
another small pock in our bodies.

But every night
we reverse the journey as well,

stepping from oily asphalt
onto the ramp that sways a little

with our good weight.  We step
through air, across water,

back into the quiet cells
where we live our nights, trying

for some kind of pardon
for the way we spend each day.


Carol Steel 5050 said...

I love the line "trying for some sort of pardon for the way we spend our days." Great twist and a refreshing thought. Lovely.

Emily said...

Thanks Carol!