the world has me too:
its dips and rises, that
light I chase from one
end of the day to the other,
the always-beginning-again
a needle that threads floss
through loop after loop
in a chain making daisies
and clouds and rain—
So near sometimes, so close
to gossamer joy I think
almost if I closed my eyes
I might find, by feel,
the coat that I rent,
the love that was lost,
the house that the years
ransacked to ruin.
[LAG-other-response date=”03 30 2013″ url=”http://yeosi.wordpress.com/2013/03/30/small-stone-229/” title=”small stone (229)”]