a ghost saw me on my moon walk
my walks have become a habit
like that of a nun
all black and robed
only my scrubbed raw skin in view
the ghost glided up the hill
and looked back over a shimmery shoulder
and I knew
my habit was transparent
my limbs and beating secret exposed
naked
vulnerable
the ghost made a decision
in the flash of an earthly moment
to see my bare hairless flesh as human
Human
Human
what human could resist walking
what human could resist the moon
what human could turn away from caring about a drowning in the sea
about the life one cannot cease to see
in the solitary moments
of a million moon walks
of a million words
of a million
poems
that
rip off the skin
Had to read again. This really blows me away.
ReplyDeletethanks for giving it the time
ReplyDeleteto bare yourself in words is to be human
ReplyDeleteyes...thank you Sigerson
ReplyDeleteone of your best writes ever.....
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
ReplyDeleteVery interesting tone here, Nic. If I had to describe it, I would call it "minimalist humanism" A statement of "this is what humanity is, and I won't put any pretense to it."
ReplyDeleteI will read it over a couple more times to see what I can further glean from it. It's one of those poems that I think has other meanings buried in the words.
"what human could resist walking
what human could resist the moon
what human could turn away from caring about a drowning in the sea"
is a particularly interesting passage. There seems to be an angst about what we should and should not pay attention to in the world as human beings.
thank you to all who read...
ReplyDelete