The wind makes the leaves
sound like sheaves of paper rustling
as the pages of a book are flipped, then

like the ocean, waves lapping
to the shore of my regret.
The book cannot be studied,

for its pages are uncut—temperance
for the blind. I cannot find you,
though I see your face on the Internet.

You are lost to me, and in an attempt
to avoid sounding like a stereotype, I place
mother-of-pearl, heart-shaped, inside the shell

of our memory, coat its sheen with saliva
until the article which forms
is too big for my mouth. I spit it out,

create another, end up with a whole plateful
of sad, silver, heart-shaped pearls
which no one wants. I glue them

to the cover of the book, cut the pages
and turn them, in hopes of a good story.
The pages are empty. The pearls

are unwanted. The sound of the ocean
is just a slight breeze—there is no water
to be found, no glimpse of blue

anywhere. The only thing the wind brings me
is sound, and I have been deaf for years.
The echo of your love still rings in my ears

Julie Mahfood
From: Literary Review of Canada, Volume 16: 9

"Time has been transformed, and we have changed; it has advanced and set us in motion; it has unveiled its face, inspiring us with bewilderment and exhilaration."
~Kahlil Gibran

Word Scramble Fun: Unscramble the following word. The first letter is given as a hint. The answer will be revealed tomorrow.


B _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Yesterday's word was: PERSEVERANCE

Visit these other unique locations:

Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers
Cool iPhone Apps Free To $5 Caps

Coffee Table Poetry's GUEST BOOK is a division of Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers, and is updated often. The easiest way to enjoy the selections from talented fellow poets is to select E-mail or RSS Reader. Also, come follow us on Twitter. We look forward to sharing your own beautiful poetry with the world.

Reblog this post [with Zemanta]
Bookmark and Share
0 Responses