I Sing the Body

And if the body were not the soul, what is the soul? – Walt Whitman


Are we not
sinew, chamber, skin and sigh
-lence, slice of moon
and sun’s golden violence
spit-shined into daily sway?

Are we not
bone and blood and fervent
flood of tears,
saltwater stains, uncounted
years stacked backward to today?

We are not
contraptions, mechanical actions
of some bored machinist waiting.
We’re bold: believing, born and breathing;
and when we do run, it’s away.





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4 Responses to I Sing the Body

  1. billgncs says:

    we are machines that find the beauty in a woman’s sigh – miraculously wrought.

  2. “stacked backward to today” – very clever. I love the first 2 stanzas. spit-shined into daily sway – wow.

  3. Shawna says:

    This is absolutely fantastic. I want to read this many more times.

Use your words.

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