QUIET

Libby Scheier
From:   Second Nature.

        for Judy Amundson

It is the blue
side of the moon I felt
yesterday
with my fingertips.

It is a cave's
icicles: hermetic
decending slowly in the dark
while a thousand evolutions
pass under the sun.

It is the center of the storm,
the eye of the orgasm,
breathing in whispers later
on male and female nipples.

It is the secret spine
which rides the tree's vertical,
generating yearly rings.

It is something I have forgotten
I almost remember
each morning
as the language of waking mind
shapes colors and movements
of last night's dream.

It is blue in color
like steel and ice,
sky and water.
That is all I know
about the quiet.
It hides from speech
as from grasp.

Poem 1 | Poem 2 | Poem 3 | Poem 4 | Poem 5 | Poem 6

Libby Scheier's works copyright © to The Estate of the Author.