Friday, March 26, 2010

Deborah Ager

You know how it is waking
from a dream certain you can fly
and that some one, long gone, returned
and you are filled with longing
for a brief moment, to drive off
the road and feel nothing
or to see the loved one and feel
everything. Perhaps one morning
taking brush to hair you'll wonder
how much of your life you've spent
at this task or signing your name
or rising in fog in near darkness
to ready for work. Day begins
with other people's needs first
and your thoughts disperse like breath
in the in-between hour, the solitary hour,
before day begins all the world
gradually reappears car by car.

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