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TWO POEMS
by Vicki Hudspith


Some Morning

As if in the middle of conversation
Holding hands as a way of talking
The sun gently moving in
This would be the back drop

Any sadness would be in the left shoulder
Not spoken of or even thought abut
Anger would reside in tiny knots in the right shoulder
Gnawing against a satchel strap

But it would all be asleep in the body of knowledge
And the universe would let up
Throughout this walk
On this morning

Not too early
With no one sitting down except in anticipation of moving
And can therefore let go of
A momentary lack of progress

When an entire day lays ahead
What came before seems accidental
Fixable, mutable, forgivable
Time embodies the suspension of time

Litter on the sidewalk belongs to yesterday
Rushing and harshness are parts of history
This is the air of détente
It is Sunday School before you are asked to stop fidgeting

It¹s your room before your parents storm in
Like the health department with a warrant
It¹s your car before it smells like a kennel
Or a favorite book when you¹re in the middle

It¹s new shoes before they start to hurt
The house before it gets dirty again
A boyfriend before you notice how loudly he chews
A husband before he¹s too tired

Your hair before the roots grow out
The dentist before he picks up the drill
A meal before the bill comes
Coffee before you¹ve had one cup too many

It¹s free tickets to the show you want to see
A manicure before the polish chips
It¹s an avenue of green lights timed in your favor
It¹s after waking up

It¹s morning and its whispers
About the number of hours you slept
It¹s after that
It¹s the grace period

Before morning establishes itself as a day
As the same rut
You procrastinated through yesterday
When the dog was sick on your clean bed

And the dishes piled up
And you couldn¹t think of what to cook
And couldn¹t find a clean shirt
Or the receipt you needed to return

It¹s before the closet
Dislodges a corner shelf and drops it, point down on your head
It¹s a state of grace
It¹s not a season or a lifestyle

It¹s just an hour or two on some morning after it rains
It¹s the glad to be alive vibe
And it gets you through the next few
Hoping for another one like this

We Tie Its Wings

This is the canopy of damage
Against your loveliness
Unfair accusations
Of moonlight

Does the bloom hate the bud
When each will have their season
The wholeness of fruit
Is without sight

Yet how could I argue
When the wind suggested
I was your friend
To make myself look better

It was possible the opposite was true
And you needed my light
To set entire fields on fire
Only to watch them burn

The morning drags
Because we tie its wings
But I would have loved you anyway
Because I needed to love

And so the bud claims the blooms
For what they know
In the fragrant night
Before they fall