Focus
This day, when I'll notice you
rising swift in the linens,
solstice in young light;
and when in conversation,
wit will fail miserably,
clipping short the wick--
this day, when grocery stores
will crowd after hard weather,
ether frost on sills;
and in the car ahead,
eyes in a sliver of glass
dash, stare, take and vie--
this day, so unlike yesterday,
with things making themselves seen,
clean, ordinary;
this day will start when I notice you,
rising swift in the linens,
solstice in young light.
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