Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Rounding Third

Rounding Third

Touch anything, and scuff it,
either the thing or your finger.

The best sponges work not by
cleaning, but through abrasion,

the outer layers of a wall and
a smudge lifted off. Even if

I listen to all of my music
at the same volume, even if

all the songs have the same
voice and words, fall is still

rounding third and leaving,
winter waits, and after it,

spring, and summer, and
another and another fall,

heading home. The words
we are taught first tell us

the moving pieces of our
world: we count up to ten,

sing the letters, learn colors,
shapes, animals, seasons.

What sound does the dog
make. What falls from the sky

in the winter when it’s cold.
We can learn what to expect.

3 comments

  1. Hi Hannah,
    There is something youthful about this poem, and then I saw the photograph, perfect. There is something sad about this poem, as well. I enjoy the "voice" of the speaker of the poem, an older person, ageless, I think; reflecting both backwards to childhood, and forward.

    ReplyDelete
  2. There is a deep statement in "The best sponges work not by / cleaning, but through abrasion...."

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  3. Why are we taught what we are taught in that order?!! Lovely poem Hannah!

    ReplyDelete

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