A segment of thought appears neatly on the table
Voices spill
Over
Breath spills out
Of summer windows—
Of the places where we breathe
Before speaking
In a river, in
An idea of
A river, in
A surplus, the very
Distance
Between
Strangers in a room
There is a gap
In a room, measuring distance— another
Word
For goodbye
Wipe that blotch of light off your face
Swim the distance
Between stars—
That kid getting off
The schoolbus
Won’t be able to provide
Any answers
Tremble, like a silk
Scarf in the wind
Then fall down laughing—
It’s best if you don’t
Understand
Mark DuCharme