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Nottiteln #80 | Nottiteln #81
A chance occurrence
The seat beside her was the only
seat in the house
His cup of java beside her
pot of tea
His kids occupied the seats
to the left of him
A large window looking out
on the pedestrian street
She was absorbed in reading and tabbing
her book
He broke the ice
Other than the usual niceties uttered
when someone scoots over and someone else
squeezes in their conversation centered on
her major: Sociology
Emphasis: Suburbanization
He tried but probably failed to say
something of value
She politely honored
his ignorance
I think they came to an agreement
about the future: darkness and light
For me she was his Mrs. Fujie (cf. Milosz)
without the serial association
i.e., his fascination was purely aesthetic
The substance was not completely soluble
in water
Her shyness intrigued him
He read into her scant words a maturity
beyond her years
She was struggling with a problem
He busied himself with
the innumerable because unnumbered
dot-to-dots of her freckles
He catalogued the tiny black mole
on her right cheek
On a field of curving flesh
dark eyes danced in the in-streaming light
On her T-shirt the imprint of a dragon
revealed itself only to vanish
I can acknowledge but not erase
the terrors of existence
I can become a curator of moments
Funny how he forgot to ask
her name
The museum gathers its pieces
one by one
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With repetition
I will frame you in a web
of logic and despair
You awake you unfold
you breathe you sleep
Beneath your eyelids
I will plant the miracle
of a seed
An inextinguishable rose
will grow
in the is-isn't Eden
of sleep
Selah
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AUTHOR NOTES:
R L Swihart currently resides in Long Beach, California with his lopsidedly feminine family: wife Ania and two daughters, Katia (age 9) and Nadja (age 5). He teaches high school math to pay the mortgage; writes poetry just because; travels whenever he can. Some of his recent poetry credits include: Stirring, Poet's Canvas, Snow Monkey, Three Candles, Urban Spaghetti, and The Cafe Review.
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