December 10, 2012 § 1 Comment

if I were to
go blind, I could still
trace these senses back
along a knotted silver thread
I would
feel the years
between my forefinger
and thumb
until I came
to the largest one
I would pinch
it until it left
indelible, an
a vermillion mark
for a particular August
then work my way
forward again
counting the knots
of all the milestones
you were not here

2012 Fred Whitehead


§ One Response to knots

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