I enter the poet’s world
where thoughts become things
to lift and inspect
and displace and paint
and put in a different light
to step back from to view
to see if from here
perhaps
in this new light
from this angle
it is more solid
it is more convincing
I enter the poet’s world
where every feeling
is something hands can seize
something that stops wind
something that floats
and can carry cargo
I enter the poet’s world
where notions offer up resistance
where hopes will cast a shadow
where dreams can plummet
like rocks
or rise on wings
real enough to drop feathers
