Poem: "Love's Inventory" by Pamela Harrison
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Love's Inventory
I wake to find you already far afield, standing deep in dawn’s solitude, the still blue hills. Swallows wheel in haloes about your head. I love the sunlit hair on your wrist as you bend to some mending, your calm steadfastness that shakes its horns and leans into the plow. And the pale lids of your eyes, and your eyes that go gray and go green. And how you still surprise me when you speak, how I’ve never been able to get my head around your heart. All the hidden things you never think to tell. What you don’t say. Maybe what you don’t say most of all. From What to Make of It (WordTech Communications, 2012) |
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