POETRY: Two by Kary Wayson
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If you have lived alone you know
I know how to live with others, even in love, way out at the end. And
if you’ve lived for long, you know well
those moments when all is actually lost — the head of
the heart of —
Happiness Himself, standing in the frozen dirt, holding out the blue
If I can find a way to live without hope —
I mean, if you can find a way to live freed of hope, then, if,
Who knows if you will when he asks say yes.
THURSDAY. THE LIGHT
— for you who came so near me, late last September — bears/ repeating bears.
as January has it. A bowl of small oranges
in the window for the gray. Downstairs
my neighbor plays scales on her fiddle
while Hansel chops an apple on the kitchen table.
Such fine sharp cuts he makes on the table
that I too want to play the scales! In my mind
I can see: a stand of trees across the street. Of the trees I
think musical: chairs.