Nothing May Frame You
2009 May 1
The way you stand, curved
in the doorway
enters me like the still
light of a pond
at rest in my mind:
you ripple through
the room, the pebbles
I toss from my eyes
to set your image in motion
have lost their origin,
and move over the landscape
of your country
to the shore,
where the waves bend the light
in your eyes to a whisper
only beauty can hear. Darkness
follows, now moonlight
the canvas your words bring
to life: dewdrops from a star
you drop not by note
in this poem.
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