by Richard Vince
Some days, I long to be a melody
Composed entirely of grace notes;
The style without the substance,
Lighter than mist, passing through
The solid world by being
Always both sides of every wall.
Some days, I long to be the spaces
Between the grains of sand,
Defined entirely by what I am not,
The essential but overlooked part
Of every beach; the nothing
That makes sense of everything.
Some days, I long to be a night breeze;
The urgency that makes physics
Seem alive, that animates the
Inanimate; the romantic name
We confer on nocturnal convection
As it keeps us from feeling alone.
Posted on 02/13/2019
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