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Poetry for Tuesday


pkern

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Welcome

If you believe nothing is always what's left

after a while, as I did,

If you believe you have this collection

of ungiven gifts, as I do (right here

behind the silence and the averted eyes)

If you believe an afternoon can collapse

into strange privacies-

how in your backyard, for example,

the shyness of flowers can be suddenly

overwhelming, and in the distance

the clear goddamn of thunder

personal, like a voice,

If you believe there's no correct response

to death, as I do; that even in grief

(where I've sat making plans)

there are small corners of joy

If your body sometimes is a light switch

in a house of insomniacs

If you can feel yourself straining

to be yourself every waking minute

If, as I am, you are almost smiling . . .

~ Stephen Dunn

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