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| Malachi Cowie |
Ode to Presence
Fear grips me in its jaws
as I’m driving.
Be careful!
You’re going to have an accident.
Then I remember.
My breath deepens,
shoulders loosen,
heartbeat slows.
The hazy picture comes into focus.
I’m going to be all right.
I give my wife a hasty kiss.
She pulls back.
Then I remember,
let my lips melt into hers,
like warm honey.
I’m doing tai chi,
Moving like a robot,
Each movement a blurry dream.
Then I remember.
My mind emerges from nowhere land,
shakes hands with my arms and legs,
takes them out for coffee.
I’m gobbling my food,
as if the Cossacks are coming,
about to launch a pogrom,
disrupt my lunch.
Then I remember
to slow down and savor,
as if each morsel is a line
from a favorite poem.
Enjoy more poems by Ralph Dranow HERE.
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| Ralph Dranow |
Ralph Dranow works as an editor, poetry teacher, and oral historian. His most recent books are At Work
on the Garments of Refuge, poems of his and poems and artwork of his late friend Daniel Marlin. And Jelalludin Rumi Comes to Oakland. Ralph's website is http://www.ralphdranow.net.
