Thursday, June 16, 2011

Poesy: Kate Greenstreet

The Last 4 Things [That hard thread]

That hard thread
between us.

Is it gold? Do I have to be
so outshined by my curtain?

Opened,
especially by breaking.

people who would die
people who would almost

die and
who would be injured


My dad was in the water.
Across an unprecedented space.

It would rain
for days, they said

he'd come home.
[lists the father's wounds]


That hard thread
is a bone. Is made of bone.

When I was 
alone, 
a girl,

the first loss,
between tunnels...

I didn't need so much.
I'd eventually get hungry.
 
- Kate Greenstreet
via poets.org 

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