Distance, Then

This entry is part 58 of 93 in the series Morning Porch Poems: Summer 2011


“There are designs that seem like chaos
only because you’re too close.” ~ Dean Young

Move away from the lance-
tipped leaves, admire

the goldenrod shimmer
in the sun like green fish,

but from behind a glass window:
better yet, lower the blinds?

I know what you mean, and yet,
and yet— It’s been years

since a blade of grass
left its covert stroke

on my hand on the path
to home; since clotheslines

sang their load of moisture
on the line, since the plaster

saint with its chipped halo
and faded blue habit raised

its wooden hand in greeting
as I crossed the threshold.


In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.

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