Evening Poetry, September 11


by Frank Watson

carved wood--
   love letters written
     before the dawn of time

we speak
  in smoke signals
around in circles 
to the touch

the rope 
  entwines us
and binds us
  hands and feet
as we set sail
  on silver seas

we shape time
      with a chisel
following the lines
   of an afternoon

is a sculpture
from the lines
     of infinity
laid out to rest
     on the bed
of salvation

You can find this poem in In the Dark, Soft Earth: Poetry of Love, Nature, Spirituality, and Dreams.

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