Subtle Way

 

A wave does not regret crashing on the shore

and a lightning bolt does not care

which tree it splits in two,

the same way the river

never notices the hill

it has carried away,

or the fog

the ship it has led

to a rocky grave.

 

You,

you are a force of nature

that sweeps over me,

that buries me entirely

and like snow piled high

on the empty cabin’s roof,

you don’t even notice me

collapse under your weight.

 

 

Mondays

 

This morning,

a car horn screamed

from the street below.

Standing in my room

wearing a towel

and with a toothbrush in my mouth,

I screamed back.

 

by John Taylor Pannill

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