View From My Window
bottoms up
Do you drink down bottoms up? Who? I say, who?
The hooting of an owl in the forest. The turning of a key in
A locked door. Or, the simple sentence never spoken.
I am not I.
Who are we? Only the owl knows
Our breed: a lamp post that spoke my name.
Gently, etched in stone, these things that are written in
Secret but we never spoke of to ourselves.
Hear the earth rotate, walk the length of the
Equator.
Where will it end? Heed this notice.
I am not the I in “end,” but I am the question in
A question mark.
Ha! Double ha! End in parenthesis.
Split into a paragraph.
The hooting of an owl in the forest. The turning of a key in
A locked door. Or, the simple sentence never spoken.
I am not I.
Who are we? Only the owl knows
Our breed: a lamp post that spoke my name.
Gently, etched in stone, these things that are written in
Secret but we never spoke of to ourselves.
Hear the earth rotate, walk the length of the
Equator.
Where will it end? Heed this notice.
I am not the I in “end,” but I am the question in
A question mark.
Ha! Double ha! End in parenthesis.
Split into a paragraph.
Comment On This Poem ---
bottoms up
bottoms up
