You forget
what you said
until someone says it back
to you…
Poem
pink if it were bronze
sunset clouds settling…
We’ll dance till the band
runs out of breath…
I for one do not have energy
to match…
I don’t remember
the name of the music…
the jazz only a trombone
can make
slide down the avenue…
what my legs are supposed
to feel like, now they weigh
me down with sandbags…
winds smooth
over wood, glossy
surfaces, lift…
take the cloud into your hands,
squeeze out the sugar,
squeeze out the air…
do you ever hold still so long
you wonder if your toes
remember how to flex…
Daily Poets 