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Present
Are we present? I give
my wife this morning
mourning things
in the cellar
of the cellar
of today.
Poems on the topic: presence
Poems on the topic “presence” on Poets.by.
Presence
A tree seems like the very embodiment of presence, but this time of year it is mostly absent, at least aboveground. It’s real in the same way that a life-size cardboard cutout of a politician is real. You can project anything onto it. It’s another blank space on your mental map.
sleeping it off
on a park bench
fallen leaves
Standing behind me
The air around me stopped moving
The breeze of the wind halted and
The hair from my back stood.
Like barometer sense wave coming from far
I could sense the atmosphere getting thicker.
My heart beating is suddenly getting fast.
The ground beneath me is shaking. I know this feeling
That particular person entered the room, didn't he?
He is standing now behind me. Isn't he?
Thralldom
Your voice keeps ringing down the day
In accents soft and mild,
With which you have beguiled
And wooed me as a child.
Your presence bounds my every way
And thrills me in its fold
With phantom hands that hold
Like cherished chains of gold.
Describe a feeling — we’ll find a poem
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