by Scot Siegel |
Inside-Out
I meant
I’d string myself up
to the next passing cloud
one that looks threatening
like it could do damage
could turn this moment inside-out
could reach from the ceiling of someone
else’s soul
and touch-down in mine
in that nook that hasn’t seen light
in quite a few years
the place piled thick
with still-alive lichen
sperm-whale teeth
rotting, readable books
maps in Braille –
that gray, littered place –
I’d welcome some stirring up,
a leveling – hold onto
the braid of the past
unraveling in the funnel
try and steer myself
to that calm center
I’ve heard so much about
where you can see all of it –
past, present, future –
whirling around you like barn doors
and bewildered cows,
your promise ring levitating
on its revived chain
the inscription as clear as ink
when I asked you to write me back.
Kristin
Berger is a poet and essayist, living life with her
family in Portland, Oregon. She is Co-Editor of VoiceCatcher 6 (2011),
author of a poetry chapbook For the
Willing (Finishing Line Press, 2008), and is a columnist for Sage Cohen’s Writing the Life Poetic Zine. Visit
Kristin at www.kristinberger.wordpress.com.
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