Monday, July 31, 2017

In the Table

If I look
closely,
with my head
pressed to the wooden table,
and if the light
from a warm, April afternoon,
hits us
(me and the wood)
together...

If I look
closely,
I can see myself,
trapped,
in the table,
in the wooden
lines.

My nose
(its faint outline-long and German)

I am there,
if only for an
afternoon moment.

1 comment:

Adrian Neibauer, EdD said...

This is another short observation I had the other day. Again, I feel that this could be a part of a larger poem...not sure just where yet.