In Which Room Do You Reside?

 

Are your walls made of names?

Were there so many hands

You needed several minutes

To realize your clothes were gone?

 

Does it follow you, wandering yellow fields,

 

Across nations without borders,

Alone in moonlight, racing

Through deep space?

 

Are you standing in a city that never sleeps?

 

Like a person in a stout wind,

Understanding what the heart cannot,

Flush with dreams,

 

Clear as lightning on your eyelids,

 

Shaken out of this world,

In a room where you stand up for others,

Reconcile contrasting impulses.

 

 

16 January 2010

 

 

[Published in The Groundless Ground: Poems 2010-2014.

2014 by Jim Cohn.]

 

 

APPEARS IN

The Groundless Ground: Poems 2010-2014
(MAP Publications, 2014)

BUY THE BOOK