Taconic at Night

shhh the rain
the carousel and flushed faces
of men in suits and women laughing

Samson sits at the sliding glass door
watching puddles break
lit by white lights
wrapped around our old fence

We are tourists in our own living room
who knew every city could be seen from our cabin
who babbles poetic watching dog watch rain

shhh my skin is so tender
when I’m sick
a thousand circles drawn on shoulders

My neck aches the lift of thinking
we both like the medicine
should go

My shoes are in the dining room
wallet on the kitchen counter
I come from a different time
can you translate this

There is another problem
the hip of a cello
loves the moon differently

I glow gold
the clavicle speaks volumes
tonight the rain

shhh the dreams
telephone wires as far
from here as death

Don’t be such a defeatist
have you ever gone hunting
you have nothing in common

But the guns in the bedroom
windows glisten
in the rain

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About amyleighcutler

Writer, dancer, vagabond extraordinaire
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Taconic at Night

  1. Thomas Davis says:

    There are many, many beautiful lines and stanzas in this poem. This is the second time I’ve read it, and I liked it even more the second time through.

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