Expansions
The sweeping stops
the world cuts its own grass
feeds itself with the living
while the dead grow trees and turf.
You notice things,
the eyes of your eyes are open lattice windows,
shutters taking pictures;
making those images move.
Suddenly, as quite as a field mouse
the view you are watching
becomes just watching.
Only then do you recognize
this ever expanding life of all who move
through you.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
