Monday, January 27, 2014

Faces on a Page

Each rises like a rapid sapling: agile
things that bring some sleek conundrum.
Preternaturally dumb, they rarely seem

to even want to speak; and if they
look at me, it’s almost always in a glance.
I’m seen, if I am seen at all, by chance.

But I refuse to think that I’m the mere
occasion for their being. There has to
have been some persuasion on some side

to foster this – all of us agreeing to agree
to coax this party through the door.
But I do not know what we’re for.


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