Today's poem is by James Bertolino
A persistence of wasps.
The sigh of sticks.
Find the place in the air
where your face fits.
Skepticism is to precision
what shame is to beauty.
Truth is such a flirt. Belief the vile
succor of those who leave.
You are not the world's final orphan,
nor wired for failure from the beginning.
Go to the shooting range and take
aim with your blind-man's cane.
For some dogs it's an honor
to be a human being.
You may think the spirit in your room
is part of a conspiracy;
dangerous to breathe
in the presence of evil.
Are you ready now to play
Every wound has a rhythm
you can hum. Begin.
Copyright © 2012 James Bertolino All rights reserved
from Every Wound Has A Rhythm
World Enough Writers Publications
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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