mouth upside down needle blink wrap aggressive knit time move window
Within some blink
behind my eyes, I see
a woman knitting a window of time.
Her needles move the circles
of these moments inside of
each other, but the dimensions
of her work remain vague.
Will this warmth wrap us
for now or ever,
for a season or decade?
These questions only inspire a race
between fear and hope.
The fact is she is
continuing her work.
Her window's size makes no difference.
If we come close
we can see wide and far.
Some will aggressively say,
"This time looks upside down;"
I say, "When I kiss your mouth,
I close my eyes."
by jerry gordon
1.14.11
behind my eyes, I see
a woman knitting a window of time.
Her needles move the circles
of these moments inside of
each other, but the dimensions
of her work remain vague.
Will this warmth wrap us
for now or ever,
for a season or decade?
These questions only inspire a race
between fear and hope.
The fact is she is
continuing her work.
Her window's size makes no difference.
If we come close
we can see wide and far.
Some will aggressively say,
"This time looks upside down;"
I say, "When I kiss your mouth,
I close my eyes."
by jerry gordon
1.14.11