Today's poem is by Adam Clay
Would it be enough to suggest
the smoke from across the river
suggests a type of life or a type of living?
I'd like to be stranger than I've been.
One bite taken from an apple and left
in the yard for an animal
to scavenge. Could this be a day
or any day? I'd like to think so.
I'd like to think there's something
to be said for an immediacy or closeness
to death, as if nearly leaving this world
can color our existence in a particular way
or another. I miss you, we might say
to ourselves in those moments,
but those moments lumber ahead
without us where another person
is making copies, sipping the last bit of coffee
of the morning for a day going,
a day already half-gone. I miss you,
we might say to each other in those moments,
as if repetition can be a way
or even a minor attempt at remembering
Copyright © 2016 Adam Clay All rights reserved
from Cimarron Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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