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Page 35

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SIBERIA IS BURNING

The world we knew as
 an enchanted garden
has morphed into this unsteady
landscape
my friendships are few
but deep

inside the room
last night I dreamed
I was living
back at the Chelsea Hotel

  Lisa Bond__


_________________

           *

I will leave notes
that no one will find

secret messages

in plain sight

that no one will see

  Lisa Bond__




           *

still listening
to the curve of your voice
as it pierces me

in that moment

I’m holding on with something inside of me
that does not want to let go

night has fallen on some of us
the Moon is out
on both sides of the river

  Lisa Bond __



_________________________

the tea leaves

my great aunt  Bess

read in the back
of her antique store

on 48th street

as a little girl
I really  loved to
be there

among the treasures

& the big orange  cat

  Lisa Bond __



           *

poems are notes from the dead to the living

or the living to the dead

crossing the border into each others territory

 

the ghosts sit in other rooms

on certain days

 

we could have the place to ourselves

they will linger where they linger probably for a long time

 

in the dusky light

  Lisa Bond__


___________________________

           *

the shining
wing

of the beautiful
blackbird at the outdoor lunch table

thinking that
we could have been lovers
for a long time

  Lisa Bond__




Unfinished

October 5

There’s no room here
on this thin edge
between worlds
sitting on the edge
overlooking
the last
moment
you remember
being happy
•••••••••
Interlock
the looking over

the words fall
fail
flail
cannot right themselves

who am I
temporarily
in this bubble
the light fades
the voice dimming
in the dark
I am over
ever over now

inflection
in fraction
coming
down here

I pushed my way in
for the nourishment
for the moment
the heat rising
rang
out against me
stopping time

  Lisa Bond__