| Infinity
There is something
unbalanced in this.
He is not of two minds.
The weight of numbers
(square root of pi
limit as x approaches
infinity
tangent graphs)
these are his world.
They are hefty things, I know.
But is there not
a different heart to this:
the color of water
so gray
to be a different
darker
heartier gray
than that of its cold morning;
a landscape
desert
winter
mountains
summer;
the heavy wheel of it:
its endless path--
infinity,
no?
Why My Father
Has an Axe
I saw the axe
resting against the side of the house.
Its blade was kissing the earth,
the sweet, cold metal and
red warmth of dirt:
one inside the other.
This
is why my father has an axe–
to bury the sharp danger of it
in the womb of something
tender
low
and soft.
- Mariel Boyarsky
| Mariel is an award winning high
school poet from New York, who has previously published her work in Canwehaveourballback. |
|
