The Odds
It’s impossible to love the same person twice
unless twice divides before and after…
how it was before now, after my impulse
to toss a pillow into the pond, to quell
something that was suffocating,
the closest thing at hand, and
how it was before now, after my impulse
to toss a pillow into the pond, to quell
something that was suffocating,
the closest thing at hand, and
it failed to sink.
What are the odds? We stood
looking at an embroidered pillow
we hauled all the way from Asia
as it floated like a mandala...
delighting our stymied eyes.
looking at an embroidered pillow
we hauled all the way from Asia
as it floated like a mandala...
delighting our stymied eyes.
~ LCMH
