My friend when you go away
Into a medical emergency
An emergency of how living
Is practiced I miss you
I feel I am missing out
On my own life the consequences
Of which a building never
Materializing would make it true
Because the building is never
Built it remains a proposal
Or plan about how prosody
Lifts the body outside itself
How ekstasis cures
Your books remain to be written
Because the possible
Doesn’t end with words.
This poem is so beautiful Thom and I am grateful for its presence. I miss you both.
ReplyDeleteDear Thom,
ReplyDeleteI am so happy you wrote this. It makes me miss you, too, even though, and because, we hardly know each other.
Yours,
Kythe