Dear Guest

The leaves are only leaves
& the house is stationary
when you say small I am warm,

(O JJ Cale help me fetch that nickel
from your larynx) & let me touch myself
for the celebrity I just missed.

The leaves are only leaves tonight
I am a guest in my idea to lie across
the tight machine that holds us so apart.

Whoever you are (winnowing in North Dakota)
whoever you are (ciphering in Denmark)
your hand will not stay with me in spite

of my own hand (wrist that circles the
Arctic Circle) and the leaves are unfortunately
incalculable from the dozen or so vernaculars.

Copyright © 2007 Paige Ackerson-Kiely All rights reserved
from In No One’s Land
Ahsahta Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission