Hide

American Poetry Review, The, Jan/Feb 1997 by Snyder, Jennifer

Hide from sleep connecting you to teeth. Hide from the wind that misses itself. Hide from crooked faces copied in dew. They're your face. You drew them.

And the night passes through your arms like a seal through the bay.

Hide from how you are erased morning after morning. You recognize your shadow. It envies you. It is a sheet in rain.

After you are gone, look back at your nakedness, sweet and backwards.

You are as naked as the center of flying, All your names and signs.

Look at how your instruments sleep in praise. You hear yourself.

You are surrounded by roses.