Spaces Needed in the 21st Century
a space between writing letters
and pressing Send
between finishing an entrée
and ordering dessert
between falling in love
and having sex
between desiring
and acquiring
between growing older
and being old
between sitting quietly
and praying . . .
even better, a double space, an interval,
a biblical selah.
He Falls Asleep in My Arms
and I morph to pillow mode,
my task to sit
as still as a Buddhist
letting a squirrel
crawl down her arm for a nut,
still as that nut in a dish,
still as Rushmore presidents,
still as clocks two minutes from recess,
still as flags on Hershey kisses,
and yet somehow, I’m waltzing,
Strauss himself on the organ,
Gabriel on the horn
(still as Elijah, listening).
