April 25, 2007

• weird magic needs no
  satin swirl distracting eye
  suspicious watcher
  
  it rises inside
  casts a thin silvery line
  catches my belly
  
  ordinary light
  over the breakfast table
  remembered laughter
  
  current below talk
  homework, pets, appointments, milk
  your taste on my lips

   

  Sometimes a poem takes a twist that surprises me.  This one began with the phrase "weird magic" and I start thinking about what kind of magic is really weird.  The first stanza came as a haiku, but it didn't even come close to a complete thought, so I realized, this isn't a haiku, it's a stanza.  okay. 

  And then it seemed to me that the strangest magic I know, isn't flashy, or expensive, or wrapped up in showmanship.  It's something deep, intense, and personal that happens in an ordinary moment of awareness. 

   

  • 7:45 am
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