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not yet

by Shirin Swift

phases of silence hand me a dryer towel
i shell my selfish skin into a nut, not yet
am sung to by putrid almond blossoms and solemn vagrancy
      the wettest rain that slid off god's skin
   the night will come again
   the day will come again
so roam in case you break off brittle trees
a hollow throat receives the moon's voice
  not yet, you tell me when it is safe to pull off
    not yet
       so i go

10/22/2006

Posted on 10/22/2006
Copyright © 2024 Shirin Swift

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Paul Lastovica on 10/26/06 at 04:54 PM

the whole poem has this urgent feel to it. the words not yet restrain the subject, and the reader; suddenly, without warning, one goes before it is time. not yet, so I go the staggering of the lines suggests this to me also, how they dart out and are pulled back flush to the left - then inch back out unchecked at the end. This piece moves and I move with it.

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