Ojaláby Gale Marie Thompson This is one big sentence This is another What moves as the light goes down the sunbox haltingly near You go into the woods alone and I forget that there are woods and that I can do things in them First you see the family and then you don't see the family The snow bunting of march shoals in hollow places This house is all I see It’s just science, like the mammoth’s head the face of a boy hearing for the first time And we were not in love but round vessels in the snow blue sweaters asleep in the hallway Fall is no fall so here’s hoping that it is willing that I am willing and that I am imagining it Idleness in some places Where the universe is spreading and thirty miles will do I want to be embroidered as if then I could adhere to anything |