Thursday, April 29, 2021

on resilience

these days
one often speaks
of resilience
 
but all this weeping
has dried me out,
made me brittle
 
i no longer have the energy
required for all this—
elasticity is a finite thing
 
we are not without measure
our hands cannot always be extended
across all this distance
 
we move against each other
in so many different ways;
like a river redounding
 
we keep looking for space
some center of stillness—
the borders keep shifting
 
we grow tired of the same arguments;
look for ways to withdraw from the world,
this wild whirling gasp
 
find someone whose hand fits in yours,
or yours in theirs—
dare to speak the words

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