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Thursday, August 18, 2011

blip of grace


photo courtesy of Creative Commons by AloneAlbatross via Flickr, some rights reserved

after Martha K. Grant

contentment stands
in the corner

her arms crossed
like a school marm
watching me squirm

—used to this kind of
tantrum she is completely


this switch       has flipped &
i'm in the dark       again

my hands     i've run
along each familiar wall:

you shouldn't have done that
say you're sorry
maybe if i get some sleep

perhaps a bit of dark chocolate
i should go for a run

but no

i still can't see a thing

is anybody there
no response


i pace     bent slightly
at the waist    my arms

— probes groping the air      my eyes
—radar sweeping the screen

for a blip of grace      my soul

—a sonar


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