Today's poem is by Carrie Etter
The Trapeze Artist's Dear John Letter
I recede like a vanishing point on my ribboned trapeze
and trust hamstring and calf's steady marriage
when I hang from my knees.
Physics can name the force that pushes the bar away again.
I'd call it Fortune's wheel or Tantalus's fruit,
but then I'm the company tragedienne
all good trapeze artists are. I no sooner arrive than leave.
I love you, I'm quitting you. I live my life between
the two meanings of cleave.
Copyright © 2011 Carrie Etter All rights reserved
from The Tethers
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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