Wasser Fleisch

She smells the rosemary as she rubs

her hands gently over the soft

needles of leaves knowing


it’s time to water the plants.  She smudges

the air with a bundle of white sage: a variety

she wishes was growing


in this brightly lit house.  Before filling the watering

can, she does a sequence of movements

opening her shoulders and hips


releasing all of the worldly tension from her

bones, standing behind the giant front-

room windows.   A car passes


by, trying to maneuver around

chunks of ice and the whipping

snow filled wind, the driver


almost notices, through the window of a house

so lit up that it seems to make all

the other houses seem vacant, a woman


balancing on her hands with a body the shape of

a crane, muttering, “Huh?!” The car continues

moving as if there were nothing


noticed in the night. Her hands get watered

regularly, while all the plants around her

wilt, even the herbs she grew


from seed.  She walks naked through the house

turning on each light she passes as it grows

dimmer and darker just outside


the pane of windows lining every wall.  Sometimes

this non-distinct existence can only be

seen out of the corners of eyes

while you aren’t really looking.


1 Comment

  1. Found those last lines quite powerful…a keen observation of life.

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