Poetry

copyright e. lee caleca all rights reserved


empathy

i've decided it's not so bad to be melancholy, sisters

let's pretend we are greta garbo walking in the rain
     cloche hat pulled down to hide us
     wanting to see and not be seen
     our sacred skin making the weak boundary between our own souls
               which we are obliged to feel
     and the world's hunger for our empathy

we can have many secrets in our pretend seclusion
     a logical place for us to be
     where timing is never out of phase

moving quietly down nightingale road
     frame by frame
     the shadows of our ghosts will take turns in the lead
we can become lost in the pockets of the city's long skirts
we wear the days wondering how long the clock will tick for us
we step outside the spinning top of self-proclaimed friends
we understand dead catholics represented by extremists
we hear well the echoes of ancient laughter
we discuss plato and know that his truth is not our truth

we are not makers of joviality, we three
wit and irony play perfectly against the pain expressed in our presence
let's walk past the banjo strummer on grubb street and drop quarters into his case
     delighting in our own jingling music
     which we have made
while the mime on the corner of harlen and spencer watches
     our movements curious to his silent eye

everything will be in it's proper place as we are seen and unseen
let's not be deluded nor lay our souls to waste
our age of innocence is past

we can hallucinate one heart at a time
     hyperconscious of every step
or we can deal with the difficult wizard on our own terms
     stirring the waters
     leaking our promises
every day can be like a last goodbye
making the case for the poetry we imagine

let's make ourselves witnesses to some pivotal event
as though the Apocalypses e su Chrístu is occurring before our vigilant eyes

come
we can walk during the day shift and watch the petals of the lotus
     the many which are one
     we have become the inside
     our childlike senses new
we can dream the world away
     that cousin
     that voice in the lonely moments

we will stand
three sisters
embracing our melancholy
foregoing the sanguine mystery
it's hollow message unable to reach us