A Double's Thread

[rowens]

A Double's Thread


Her glasses are as much 
mine as death.
I can see the eyes 
she doesn't.

A continuity of moments
loves her.
And now, in early fall, 
I see the eyes
that can't see her
and know they can.

On the way to a stone
house down the lane to meet
the UPS truck that's
passing,
I see a white mushroom and make
connections. She's not here.

[tun]

Her shoes are as much
mine as liberty
I can eye the sea she doesn't
a confusion of losses
loves her
and now in early winter
I eye the sea
that can't eye her
and know she can
on the way
to a paper house
up the street to meet
the Canada Goose
that is passing
I see a white egg
and make corrections
is she here.

[rowens]

You could make the period a question mark, or you could leave it as a period. That would also work if you played with the plural eyes sometimes and singular, they knows. Awkwardness pay the bills.

---

Gift

Janus-faced, an October burden,
free as breeze and tilted
sun bury the possibility like,
but not as, a stone.

We offer together
what I do alone;

cabinets and darkness
stir a rival no less
me than thee.

Every Thing sings of her
without knowing.

I am wrong,

but so is everyone, so why a stone and not a pack of peanut butter M&M's?
I hear she likes them.