Confined to Thought

Poetry
Holly Day


Photo Credit: Oliver Quinlan/Flickr (CC-by-nc)

If all of our conversations existed only on postcards, if we only
communicated through tiny messages wrapped around the legs of pigeons, if
we were only allowed to speak to one another in carefully-planned semaphore
then, perhaps, we would work. These things we say to one another
need too much planning, carry too much weight for spontaneous voice.
These things are too heavy to be propelled by irresponsible breath.

If you could only give me the time, I could formulate an answer to your accusations
write them down on origami paper, fold them into a swan
push it across the kitchen sink to you as I wash the dishes. Your retort
could come to me in pre-ordered letters of airplane exhaust
spread across the sky, where they make perfect sense.

If this was how we talked, it would be so quiet in this house.
I could concentrate on all of the things that make you so perfect to me
your smell, the way you walk, the feel of your hands
rough against my back. I could hold my tongue long enough
for the tulip bulbs and crocuses out in the garden
to push through all those layers of frozen dirt
to sprout and bloom
and scream for me.

pencil

Holly Day has taught writing classes at the Loft Literary Center in Minneapolis, Minnesota, since 2000. Her poetry has recently appeared in Oyez Review, SLAB, and Gargoyle, while her recently published books include Music Theory for Dummies (3rd edition), Piano All-in-One for Dummies, The Book Of, and Nordeast Minneapolis: A History. Email: lalena[at]bitstream.net

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