PREVIOUS TENANTS
I miss holding hands with you
move a little in ceaseless cold
with unnatural distance,
diseased doorhandles
terrified learners learning themselves
from spruce, sanitizer, crow chortle.
In a forest somewhere, unseen blossoming trees;
they are not in this house
In a forest somewhere, unseen blossoming trees;
they are not in this house
with its distance, door handles, lock
down in the gully, fresh streams
down in the gully, fresh streams
of knowing nothing at all is forever
in this stronghold of handheldlessness.