Jumper

Heart pounding
Racing toward the train
Life in every limb
He dives low
Dives for the sparking wheels
Heedless of the ever-wide eyes on-board
The hollow circle mouths

Purpose in every limb now
Scattered across the tracks
Clinging to the train
Begging two questions
Of the heavy silence
Where does the pain begin
And does it ever end

Several miles up the line
Held back by a weak link fence
The next one watches
And waits



Habitation

He rarely speaks my name anymore.
He says it’s not necessary.
He says names are for unfortunate others
Not acquainted so intimately.
I am not sure how I feel about this
Anonymous intimacy—are we
Two strangers living in a common house?

His body moves through mine as through a door,
Pushing toward escape so persistently.
I am not sure if I exist during
This communion of boredom and ecstasy.
The passionate prayer is uttered in silence
So as not to betray our identity:
Two strangers living in a common house.

Does he touch me as he touched women before,
Or am I different, separate from memory?
Do his hands hold the power to tell me from
Another flesh since his tongue ignores me?
I seek recognition in his voice
Because I no longer want to be
Two strangers living in a common house.

I listen for some whisper of opportunity
To articulate the forbidding words.
I will speak of love when introducing
Two strangers living in a common house.



When a Poem Speaks to My Soul

when a poem speaks to my soul
I can feel the air around me
move my fingers through it
sift it
push at it
and feel it push back
a living thing
a comforting thing
an embrace of something outside myself
larger than myself
something larger
something full of more promise
than I ever have been
or will be
and all is right and true
as long as the words persist
as long as those words breathe

About the poet, Megan McDonald