Poetry (96)

The Unseen

I was walking past him

In a body of others and the

Swell was such that I could either

Cling to the edges of the pavement

With my toes or move closer

To edge of the space

He inhabited.


I chose acknowledgement

And moved closer, with respect.


He smiled, absently,

At peace and with full consciousness of the beauty of the day.

Knowing he was known to be there, even if for a moment:

An unwashed hermit.

Or an adversity crowned

Prince. And I longed to be indifferent

To censure

And to give him both money and water.

Because I believe in the unseen

And must therefore let it humble me.


I was foolish not to understand

That it was closer that I could think

And that we are all complicit

In the baser forms of it.


(© Copyright Pola Negri, 11/06/2017.)



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