Settle

And sudden from the overgrown,
a sense of frightened flight —
reclusive wing rises to it
then settles back
to withholding,
unaware how we wield words
and the winding of strings.

The mute swan sits her nest,
and a warbling
again gives you away.
We still have long eyes.
And we still know
where the risk is too steep.
We climb alone,
together,
a union of effort.

Wind across water
waves cattails
as if to say,
So here you are.
We’d been wondering.
And it moves
more subtle too —

in graying eyes
and bones that settle themselves
like hidden birds
to wait,
to accept —
what purpose,
what pain and pleasure
it brings.

Advertisements

About Emily

I may or may not have: A. Dirt B. Ink C. Paint D. Wool under my fingernails.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: