And You Know These Days Are Long

I have tried for three days
to write this poem about lilacs,
the way they slump, rain-heavy,
against the window at night,
lit through glass like paint
on black velvet, only pressed
against the fine metal screen
they look like a needlepoint
tapestry stitched into a map
of the whole flat world.

But I keep returning in my mind
to this: the distance between me,
one day to the north, and you,
one day to the east,
is the square root of two.

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About Ray Sharp

Father, poet, triathlete, local public health planner
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3 Responses to And You Know These Days Are Long

  1. Oh the many times I’ve gone through this…

  2. And on the third day, he was wildly successful

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