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It’s not supposed to be — I have work to do!

Go back — I wasn’t looking…

Shaving in the Dark
by Franz Wright

How old is the sun today
Where are the shoes of yesteryear

What an evil potato goes through
we can never know, but
I’m beginning to resemble one

Ah, a little light now

It is the hour
the moment
when it becomes possible
to distinguish a white
thread from a black,
so prayer begins

I see a shadowy reflection now our fingers touch

There’s nothing like what is

fragile and momentary
as the pale yellow light along the windowsill
in winter north
of nowhere yet
if not for winter, nothing
would get done

would finally get done

I’ve been all around this world

and not to die in hell
not to die in the flames of hell homeless with a cell phone please

There’s nothing like today

And contributing one’s atoms to the green universe
how strange is that

And some have managed to live in a constant awareness
that all things, every evil thing
will be forgotten, neglecting
to mourn for every radiant thing, and so seeing
the radiance.

* * *

My sentiments exactly. Got this one from the Knopf “Poem a day” mailing list. Never ceases to interest me for a few minutes a day