all poems and photographs
© by Maya Stein

all poems and photographs
© by Maya Stein
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Tuesday, November 29, 2005

horizon


















How capable I am of making a supreme mess of things.
In a heartbeat, I think, I could, by accident, topple walls,
crash floorboards, unstick this thing of us.

And yet, by some miracle or blessing,
each possible disaster crumbles
before I can even set my hands to the fire.

Even as winter blooms
with its intended forecast of mutiny,
I wonder if any tempest
could dare touch this house.

The walls and floorboards haven't moved an inch.
And all I see, spread out
like lush and vigorous certainty,
is something almost resembling
horizon.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

How can you be this good? one wonders...

snowsparkle said...

teary eyes
a tightening in my throat
from the beauty of the words
this peace
this whole heartedness
this miracle you describe
thank you

dweezila said...

i love how you hold this fragile balance, that you know it could all topple like a match to weeds, that you don't take any of it for granted.

Swirly said...

Beautiful. :)