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Below is the poem entitled analemma which was written by poet alycia Gleeson. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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That I came back to live 
in the region both 
my parents died into 
that I will die into 
if I have nothing else 
I have this and 
it's not morbid 
to think this way 
to see things in time 
to understand I'll be gone 
that the future is already 
some where 
I'm in that somewhere 
and what of it 
it's ok to see these things 
to be the way they are 
I can be them 
have been them 
will be there, soon 
I know why I came here 
to be back here 
where my parents went 
I know that I'll be there 
to join them soon 
it's ok to think this way 
why shouldn't I 
whose gonna say I shouldn't 
a doctor, some friend 
I have no wife in this 
at night, late, the dark 
myself at the ceiling 
the arguments continue 
I'm with it, it's with me 
I am quelque chose 
something with birds in it 
a storm high above Albany 
I am ghost brain I 
sister to all things cruelty 
the mouse-back gray 
of every afternoon 
and your sorrowing 
now that you're gone 
and I'm here or now 
that you're here and 
I'm gone or now 
that you're gone and 
I'm gone what 
did we learn 
what did we take 
from that oh 
always dilating 
now that you're here 
and also gone 
I am just learning 
that threshold 
and changing light 
a leafy-shaped blue 
drifting above 
an upstate New York 
Mohican light 
a tungsten light 
boxcar lights 
an oaken table-rapping 
archival light 
burnt over, shaking

Copyright © alycia Gleeson

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