What
I love most about my favorite poems
Is
the way they are always calling me
Back, breezing in through another window or even
A
crevice never before noticed, or a new crack
In
the wall where just enough light sashays in,
And
I can see it flickering in a darkened room,
A
new dance, a sideward surprise. Most
faithful
Of
friends, these poems, like the only ones who
Never
commit you to oblivion, even if they occasionally
Forget
your birthday or lose you amidst the crowd.
And
each is perfect for a precise movement of mind
Or
limb or loss: you can call out their
names –
Pablo,
Sandra, Sylvia, Fernando, Margaret…
From
an ember or a bookshelf they return
To
cradle you in their words, or push you out again,
Into
the world.
