"This Space" by Ruth Stone
This Space
by Ruth Stone
Rushing past us
faster than this
with a few glitches,
everything you love,
like a film
in reverse.
Can this fist
in your skull
hold all that?
Like the leaves of
gloxinia, lobed maps
you cannot read,
their mysterious
patterns; fingerprints
of the universe.
Though you call it
longing, it is
the same need
that clings
in the tidal pool,
that sucks
itself to this rock
within the irresistible vector
of the ocean's pull.
From Ordinary Words.
by Ruth Stone
Rushing past us
faster than this
with a few glitches,
everything you love,
like a film
in reverse.
Can this fist
in your skull
hold all that?
Like the leaves of
gloxinia, lobed maps
you cannot read,
their mysterious
patterns; fingerprints
of the universe.
Though you call it
longing, it is
the same need
that clings
in the tidal pool,
that sucks
itself to this rock
within the irresistible vector
of the ocean's pull.
From Ordinary Words.