Poetry Jay Yencich — August 6, 2012 15:11 — 0 Comments
Split Pine – Jay Yencich
pulled apart by what hands
an adolescent wind has
rent half of this copse
and now come round
mushrooms in steps ascending
to a light I don’t know
does either any good
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What am I?
Bioluminescent eye
That sees by the shine
Of its own light. Lies
Blind me. I am the seventh human sense
And my stepchild,
Consequence;
Scientists can't find me.
Januswise I make us men;
Glamour
Was my image then—
Remind me:
The awful fall up off all fours
From the forest
To the hours…
Tick, Tock: Divine me.
-- Richard Kenney
