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Meditations on an Open Field

All the objects in the world

once touched.

Every missing finger.

The scissors.

The strands of hair.

The locks locked inside a box.

The letters you wrote.

The saliva you used to seal

the unformed words

inside your closed mouth.

Everything here is a ghost.

The eucalyptus branches

yanked by the wind.

The devil behind the blowing.

His hot breath

running with the Santa Anas.

Every leaf shudder, a whisper.

Every tongue of grass

the dogs piss on.

Every tongue leaf stomped

by child’s cleats.

Every shout is

the same hollow reminder.

Every drop of sweat.

Every goalie. Every goal.

Every point blocked.

Every block.

Every parent absent

or late or texting.

Every missed play.

Everything played

over and over

again.

from Poetry Northwest WEBMore by Fernando Pérez from the library

Copyright © Fernando Perez
Used with the permission of the author
on behalf of Poetry Northwest.

Published in Fernando Pérez Poems

This program is supported in part by a grant from the Idaho Humanities Council, a State-based program of the National Endowment for the Humanities.

Any views, findings, conclusions, or recommendations expressed in this (publication, website, exhibit, etc.) do not necessarily represent those of the Idaho Humanities Council or the National Endowment for the Humanities.