Dearest Esther
You are waking me
I am thinking of you on that small stone
That made the ocean its home
I wonder what it could have seen.
What an emotion could really be
If it could be free from the object
The bathing suit that couldn’t object
We want to be the words but are stuck as bees.
Want to be a feeling but end up with memories
Reality respects us as theory, our bodies alone
Are made to atone
When we wake it from this dream.
Years ago I was Buddy be-
Cause I had a metaphorical contract
Mind and body didn’t contract
Now I am Joan, both word and bee.
I am learning to see
How objective time ages our only home
How people make concepts into our bones
Then tells us they’re only skin deep.
Dearest Esther
We are forever thresholds
Divided but sworn to uphold
The content, not the concept of the weather.
2 thoughts on "Dearest Esther"
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love the embracing rhyme
I like the concept of that “metaphorical contract”. Compelling and interesting poem. Nice writing, Josey.