Love poem – first draft


Love poem

I.

When the dump truck fell
into a sinkhole one Friday Morning
beside the Dunkin’ Donuts
the TV crew showed up
before the wheels had even stopped spinning,

unpacked a pair of vans,
planted a sparse garden of cameras
and it was their uncoiled cables,
various lengths, that formed the perimeter,
when the police tape loosed
and went fluttering
and we pushed and craned
to look into the void.

II.

The night Seamus Heaney
came to read in Harvard Square,
the heat broke into
fat drops, finally, and fell
hard in the streets.

I wanted to say that I believe
(my hands, clutching
a wet book of poems, touching
my face) that
what the wind doesn’t blow away
it blows open.

I wanted to say that I think we have-
we have a lot of time. I know
it doesn’t feel like it,
but we do.

-LL


Very loosely inspired by Postscript by Seamus Heaney. And the 2nd law of thermodynamics. THANKS STAT MECH

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