In the poetry section,
slim as the slips of
books it contains,
the titles I add to my wish
list like lines of verse:
buzz words / and
/ bright wings /
poems to make
the soul sing
At home, my daughter looks out the window,
pastels paper butterflies from
drawn flower to drawn
flower from her mind, whispers softly to herself,
the world is so
beautiful, everywhere
you can see
looks at me and says,
I’m hungry
There is no place that does not resonate.
Thank you Nikki. Thank you Nevison and
McCully Brown. Dickinson and Gay,
and the bookseller who chooses
the titles, these very verses, and
(why not?) the alphabet that
orders thought to sense
(though even if it were Greek, it would
still come down to me
—I think—
some other same way)
All these sighters
who lay down the letters the
lines of words
that take me out of my body, make
titles like
make me rain / a
good cry / the
field between us
and all the world
make sense.
Beautiful!!
That's what a good poem does, make the world make sense.
Thank you, Rebecca!