Where is the line between this world
and the next? Or is it, rather, that
pool the shamans use—a screech of
arctic owl, wizard eyes glistening in the
midnight sun? This hedge of perfumed
skin that’ll sink one day into the
grave? Breaking dawn, a nuthatch
cry from a winter limb? Or more, this
gigantic love we feel that tears a
moment open in a kind of knowing
margaretmaryjoyce 
“Or more, this
gigantic love we feel that tears a
moment open in a kind of knowing” Beautiful
LikeLike
Hey Greg! I’m so pleased that line ‘spoke’ to you! A poem should communicate. Thanks for letting me know that this one did!
LikeLike