Swinging In Her Tomorrow
It seems to be keeping things together:
The fox in the eyes of the girl who isn't even here:
In the playground before the sea:
The only thing that is hiding all of it from her is
The manmade dune that seems to
Say, "I will protect you." Well then the sun
Smiled—and the lights came out
That had previously been selling off of the
Ferris Wheels:
This was the most beautiful joy in the world
And it wasn't even his—
And as she swam in the shallow abysses—feeling
All of a brevity that wasn't even joy—
I remembered the echoes of another's knuckles
Rasping upon the thresh holds—
And whatever joy that may have once been—
Left as if it was a clouded airplane from
Her eyes—and set off for those parts
That were barren and without swing-sets:
And whatever joy there remained, swinging in her tomorrow—
Happened to listen without her,
And kept talking to itself—as if she was already home.
poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
Added by Poetry Lover
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