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Peter Rogers Poem
How impressive are we- blessed with ragtime, breathless things
with sunrises, the shock-light feeling of being up before the birds
with the thrill-sharp sting of cold rain in the dark and skinned knees
and how your hands shake when you look up at the chaos-shiny stars
The breath-sticky sound of your own smile; the blood in your veins
windows open and empty - wind, rush, we can be heroes
Just for one night! gasp, waltz, plunge
For everything thrumming, conscious, clamorous, deep
Whatever it is that tugs your heart (be it guitar strings, ink- eyelashes against her cheek)
bitter, crashing, ringing, glittering - resplendent.
Alive and feeling. How golden are we?
To simply be
Copyright © Peter Rogers | Year Posted 2015
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