Down There Chasing Truth

Some things I miss like truth
the mother chasing the boy
tackling him in the grass
voices squealing joy
smiling at me from
down there.

I miss the peripheral witches
those under-the-leaf imps
the foxes only seen in
mindless moments
walking past water
down there.

Up here where no definition
can ever finish its work
where the suns carve
carcasses keft by
sharks forbidden
down here.

Gathering laughter from the orchard
getting fatter now that it is fall
still not softened but yellow
I hesitate to pick it
belonging as it does
up there.

Not parsing ‘beyond’ shovels
me out of the driveway
most likely nowhere
ungrammatically
I’d melt by noon
over there.

I’ve been hysterically trying to
rise above my waking up
crankily I stir and stir
the cup of service I’m
served with others
down here.

Some things I miss like truth
the mother chasing the boy
tackling him in the grass
voices squealing joy
smiling at me from
down there.

Advertisements

About mrsorenson

all over the place
This entry was posted in love, poem, poetry, song and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s