Poetry
       

Child of a lighthouse keeper and a firewatch,

conceived in a wordless encounter

at a rest stop—

1 part flywheel, 8 parts restraint—

luminous with near-disaster,

says, Don't try to mirror this

world of nothing-is-as-it-seems.

Set down no word. Says, by means

of a searching pause

I mistake for an intimate nod,

Step inside the caution tape.

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Copyright © 2015 Naomi Mulvihill All rights reserved
from Green Mountains Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission