Friday, April 8, 2016

inter alia

waves of distance
          and distant waves

we waive the necessity

          of presence

and absence weaving

          warp and weft and weep

what we miss most

          are wishes

the way we while away the time

          waiting, wondering

whether the waiting

          is wasted on the waves

splash and hiss

          the mist on the windows

there are waves

          and then there are waves

the weather leaves traces,

          whispers about leaving

we waste ourselves

          on walls and wishes          

what will wash away

          and what remains

there are windows
          and there are windows

which one is which.

1 comment:

Lisa said...

I can't stop reading this one and reading into it this way or that, and a good way. I really like it. Your "w"s put a poem in my heart late last night, too. Art begets art. Love that.