Like Half-Hidden Faces

 

Psychic locomotions,
like half-hidden faces,
take emotions through

so many internecine byways

that we can’t see sideways
half the time. But what

we can see turns out not to be

exactly unlike what the visual
equivalent must be of rhyme.

Things chime and jibe and jive

and fascinate
with assonance

and we

emerge from sleep
to wakefulness

to sleep as if we hadn’t

clawed up all the steep
strange range of cliffs

we’ve climbed. Like

I said, it as if we’ve
rhymed.







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