by Jim Moore
I could see myself as an archeologist,
At first stumbling across each bevy of words,
And then carving out every individual letter—slowly
As a collection of lines decades old might take.
It’s how I look at you,
Not in a past tense but in the present,
A language misunderstood until now,
And the cipher,
The handful of keys I fumble at your door.
Posted on 12/19/2011
Copyright © 2019 Jim Moore
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Linda Fuller on 12/19/11 at 05:37 PM|
Really like this - great finish.
|Posted by George Hoerner on 12/19/11 at 07:56 PM|
I love the idea of the archeologist. I believe to study today's women requires a Phd in at least 4 different and unrelated subjects for understanding to even begin.
|Posted by Joe Cramer on 12/21/11 at 08:48 PM|
|Posted by A. Reed on 01/22/12 at 03:36 PM|
This was an exquisite read. Definitely a favourite.