Reading poetry

How strange, these words, so still and pale, lined up so straight

like lexical dancers intent on a single thing:

to bounce their lettered beauty into the naked world.

Lines, vigorous or drowsy or ambiguous poke and prod and woo some response.

Delight or Joy?

Curiosity or Fear?

Anger or Pity?

The words trip and whirl, spit and spew, thrust and weave

engrossing the reader in the perfect, nuanced phrase –

that opens the door.

4 thoughts on “Reading poetry

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