More Like a Pair of Owls

Do new loves, like starlings, chatter
Constantly? Then we're not loves.
She's nearly silent. So am I, but
Neither of us turns to go. We
Search, at times, for things to say,
A simple question, answered only
By the briefest spray of words,
And further silence, eyes of one,
Like hands of someone near to
Falling from a cliff, reach out to
Grasp the other's eyes, and do,
And, having done so, see that
Love is there, but hasn't found
Its voice.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 19 times
Written on 2011-12-22 at 22:40

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