Closer
Closer than skin to flesh,
Closer than sea to shore,
The closeness of heat.
Close like hair to head.
The closeness of back, arms,
close as stomach to chest.
Close as air, water born,
we lay down our selves.
© Matthew Joseph Johnson, 2009
Friday 17 July 2009
soot & saliva
After the Celebration
Outside the back door, off the street
lit with snow-glow, though dry, quiet,
half the family huddles, smoking.
We shoot breeze through chattering teeth
– Grandad’s dying, Isaac’s growing –
as we pass the glowing lighter.
Above, the steamed pane, its bright light
breaking through the false snowy glow,
tells us someone’s in the bath, warm.
A wind biting our necks and ears,
gnawing at us cold ones outside
to drag deeper, fill our chilled lungs.
We feel the pull of the pure-lunged
and finish, one by one, moving
like ball bearings to a magnet.
The cold light behind the curtains,
we huddle now around the warm
glow of the box in the corner.
© Matthew Joseph Johnson, 2009
Outside the back door, off the street
lit with snow-glow, though dry, quiet,
half the family huddles, smoking.
We shoot breeze through chattering teeth
– Grandad’s dying, Isaac’s growing –
as we pass the glowing lighter.
Above, the steamed pane, its bright light
breaking through the false snowy glow,
tells us someone’s in the bath, warm.
A wind biting our necks and ears,
gnawing at us cold ones outside
to drag deeper, fill our chilled lungs.
We feel the pull of the pure-lunged
and finish, one by one, moving
like ball bearings to a magnet.
The cold light behind the curtains,
we huddle now around the warm
glow of the box in the corner.
© Matthew Joseph Johnson, 2009
