Notes About The Poem
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WITNESS
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The oak splits its ribs for the nesting wren,
lets termites tunnel its marrow to dust~
a cathedral collapsing in slow grace.
Even the gutter, choked with last night’s rain,
holds a sky for the beetle’s iridescent back.
You’ve seen it: the way the sidewalk cracks
to cradle dandelion roots,
how rust kisses the abandoned swing set red,
how the subway grate exhales its warm breath
up the skirt of a shivering stranger.
The world is a wound that heals
by staying open.
Somewhere, a spider repairs her torn web
with the silk of her own body.
Somewhere, a streetlamp hums
to the moths it will burn alive by dawn.
And you~
you are alive to witness it.
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