ManicDDaily

Hurry, Stop

There is this voice in me that says, hurry.
There is this voice in me that says, stop.

How can a single voice say hurry and stop, both
at the same time?

It makes me think of the dogs who, as I walk them,
rush to a crevice between rock and earth,
some darkness where they
suspect life lurks.

There, they stand, sniff,
bend, pant, wag,
leg-locked bustles of stillness,
that won’t budge at the tug
of leash.

That voice in that crevice of me
asks me to show the same sense, I think,
the same dumb brilliance,
of a dog—hurry, stop–
to forget about leashes.

But then there’s another part of me.
This a part that sits quietly, maybe on a rock
in some corner of the skull.
It simply watches, wonders,
what will I do, it asks.  What
will happen next?

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Here’s another little poem.  The picture is the detail of an illustration from one of my children’s books called, ABC Goat.  (It doesn’t really fit the poem, but I like the dog!) 

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This entry was posted on May 9, 2024 at 7:13 am and is filed under poetry, Uncategorized. You can subscribe via RSS 2.0 feed to this post's comments.

Tags: Karin Gustafson poetry