Today's poem is by Allan Peterson


We had been following spring rivers

traveling between little rooms

with yellow lights and small refrigerators

I had been assembling rivers of my own

out of spare parts none of them water

apples and lacewings antibodies

on their way to a limited consciousness

Evenings full of sleepers each room

with tics of things settling

the drifting weight of the others sighing

Saying one thing meaning another Sleep with me

Despite some uncomfortable reminders

Exits and Emergency Escapes posted on the walls

I followed my words like light from crushed rock

Later I will tell her what I heard of the lost hikers

found praying to whiteness in the high Cascades

Copyright © 2014 Allan Peterson All rights reserved
from Precarious
42 Miles Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

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