The Box
Opened or closed, the mood
descends
with the pull of tooth and
tongue
and discarded sound in wet
grass,
its odor mingling with
cordite
by summer pavement under the
canopy,
six plastic flowers faded by the
sun,
and photographs scattered over scraped
earth,
where we stand bound and
apart,
I reach toward
you
and find only
air.
“The Box” first appeared here in May 2015.
The Box
Opened or closed, the mood
descends
with the pull of tooth and
tongue
and discarded sound in wet
grass,
its odor mingling with
cordite
by summer pavement under the
canopy,
six plastic flowers faded by the
sun,
and photographs scattered over scraped
earth,
where we stand bound and
apart,
I reach toward
you
and find only
air.
“The Box” first appeared here in May 2015.
The Box
Opened or closed, the mood
descends
with the pull of tooth and
tongue
and discarded sound in wet
grass,
its odor mingling with
cordite
by summer pavement under the
canopy,
six plastic flowers faded by the
sun,
and photographs scattered over scraped
earth,
where we stand bound and
apart,
I reach toward
you
and find only
air.
“The Box” first appeared here in May 2015.
The Box
Opened or closed, the mood
descends
with the pull of tooth and
tongue
and discarded sound in wet
grass,
its odor mingling with
cordite
by summer pavement under the
canopy,
six plastic flowers faded by the
sun,
and photographs scattered over scraped
earth,
where we stand bound and
apart,
I reach toward
you
and find only
air.
These two pieces were written about a dozen years ago. Unlike most of what I write, they emerged quickly and whole, appearing on the page then almost as they do now in Eclectica. Not trusting the ease with which they’d slipped into existence, I set them aside, intending to return to them with a new eye at some point. A few months ago, while digging through a pile of fragments and unfinished pieces, mostly crap, I must admit, these popped up. They’re okay, I thought. Better than I remember. So I dusted them off and released them into the world.
http://www.eclectica.org/v18n3/okaji.html
If you have the time, you might read poetry editor Jen Finstrom’s section in “From the Editors.” http://www.eclectica.org/v18n3/editors.html She discusses her selection process, how the work in each issue seems to find a common thread – perhaps an image, or theme – and that she looks for these connections. Oddly enough, in this issue, two poems bear the same title, “Memorial Day.” One of them is mine.
O at the Edges 