Today's poem is by John Blair
The Body is His Book
Love's mysteries in souls do grow,
But yet the body is his book.
John Donne, "The Ecstasies"
Today I want to think about ghosts
the whispering of ghosts
the way they're said to wander
among the many things they loved
the many things they truly did not
because the tie that binds is bitter
twine the blood-soaked kind
butchers used to send you home
with binding up the pretty meat
pretty and neat and the meat
like breath enough to go around
for now though scarce enough
at times at times just scarce enough
(both breath and meat) for whispering
in this way that's just for one just
enough for hunger just enough
for air among the bloody little
knots that nothing cuts but whispers
just loud enough to listen for not
quite loud enough to hear.
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Copyright © 2022 John Blair All rights reserved
from Pembroke Magazine
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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