If music plays with film
then film is an illustration
of music’s movement.
Snap, blast, sever, sever, stop.
Even the dog twitching his ears.
If islands nestle in the ocean,
and a statue rises above the pilgrim,
then we are standing on a cliff
and the pilgrim has reached
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Recorded for Poem-a-Day, July 12, 2016.
After the First Child, the Second
for Chris Martin
To you
through whom
these sudden days
blowse & hum
thirst & quench
a tide of tensing trees
days tick by
beats in a song
my body grows
fuller each day
I think my life
has always been
for this quiet
darkness
your forehead
& eyelashes
face pressed
to my breast
your skin a texture
electrifying
my fingertips
wool on cotton
wool on glass
the fibers rise
& I can’t sleep
for being alive
Copyright © 2016 by Mary Austin Speaker. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on July 12, 2016, by the Academy of American Poets.
Copyright © 2016 by Mary Austin Speaker. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on July 12, 2016, by the Academy of American Poets.
Mary Austin Speaker
Mary Austin Speaker is the author of The Bridge (Shearsman Books, 2016).