SLEEPER HOLD
I am drawn to things
way down low, where shoes
move like herring, not to the raindrop
leaving the cloud but catching up
with its brothers and sisters
at the basin
~
THE SEA GLASS EFFECT
your childhood turns
to mere lamp glow
by 30
much softer
because time removes
you, like the bitter
edge of a
stone
~
SIFTERS
when there’s nothing
but the two of you, the rain cloud
a half mile away and your clinging clothes
sogged with seawater
you’re bound to
develop a sudden interest in sand
and the things that crawl there
the things, like me, that
your cupped hands, a random
sampling, have brought
into the light
~
LIKE IT’S NOT A TOTAL MYSTERY
when we got together, you
didn’t seem startled by your own
existence, yet I shudder when
a cloud hugs the sun
when I’m riding
a bicycle and see that sudden gray
spread like “here comes your aneurysm”
but of course it passes, cloud goes left on Melvin,
sunbeams scribble a grocery list on the ripples
of a lake, as I recall with some effort
how to breathe
we were out and back by
nine like it’s not a total
mystery
~
SAME OLD QUIET
my two hands beg a bird for
song but can only carry the tune
so far – to the tree line, bombing like
a waiter with a bowl of soup, knowing if
I drop it I’ve only the quiet of the house
to return to
the same old quiet
it turns
me inside out
and I don’t trust
even the floor to hold
me in that state
~
SEAN TIERNEY 