Of the Shining Underlife by Carl Phillips

[conuly]

Above me, the branches toss toward and away from each other
the way privacy does with what ends up
showing, despite ourselves, of
who we are, inside.

                                Then they’re branches again—hickory, I think.

            —It’s not too late, then.

******

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Comments

[larryhammer]

Now that is better than any of Billy Collins' bits from his collection of short poems. That has resonance.

[adafrog]

Good.