In the heat of what was the day, in the mouth of what was
by Genevieve Kaplan

You show me your motions--I envy you for them:
sweet sigh, dear summer sigh, dear energy in your face, the face
I shine for. Hello!
 
In the heat of what was the day, I was swaying in the breeze,
I was unseated by the heat. I held my hands
to it. I still keep them aloft.
 
I think about sound--I like O, hold
me there, lead me there: the park in the night or dusk.
The early morning of our hours.
 
As the sun drifts in and out.
I wave it off, my eyes, the branches in them, reaching out,
my eyes. The sun shines through them reaching you.
 
The shade in the light
versus the shade in the dark.
 
I like love. We all do. On a bright day
I watched myself in it. Saw myself, touched my hair.
And the clouds overhead in the magic of the words, I'm waiting
here.
 
O, float it out
in the air, as the breeze whooshes past. I woke and the air
caught my throat
 
For you as my guide, you my clear clear one, my shining
day, it is enough. Enough!
Enough! As the air wafting through, likewise declining
to waft (so dear to you, its effect, and true
to me). I woke and the air
caught my throat:
 
there is the road and there is the car and there is the bell
and there is your hand.

 

Copyright © 2008 by Genevieve Kaplan


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