John Anderson Poet Lyric

Notes About The Poem

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In The Other Pocket

Every journey
carries 
its own arrival
folded inside 
what it first
let go.

A stone kept
the other pocket.
The skip
noticed neither.

A bridge
pretends
to be its arch.
The span,
hung in chains,
remembers.

The ladder
offers
one rung
to tomorrow,
one
to yesterday.
Both feet
know.

The escape hatch
grows lighter
without opening.
The room
learns
its counterweight.

The kite
believes
the string
is holding it.
The string
believes
the wind.
Neither
touches the sky.

The grandfather clock
unwinds
its weight
until
the floor
begins to listen.

One day
the other pocket
forgot
its stone.
The hand
didn't.

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Alison A Smith July 22, 2026 at 1:21 AM I am glad the hand didn't forget its stone John Anderson July 22, 2026 at 9:19 AM Thanks, I recall an unrelated incident when a long distance runner used to train with a small pebble in their mouth to keep the saliva flowing. They tripped and the stone was an unfortunate size - it got caught in his windpipe and he died.