You teach this rag how, fold in…

You teach this rag how, fold in
its corners, edges, to close
and afterwards wood is everywhere

lies down inside you
as if there is still a place
no longer rising to the surface

though all dust is patient
smells from dried-up riverbeds
one above the other

the way these shelves
were left behind to bathe you
with roots and harbors

—you teach this rag
time, cover each board
lowered slowly into a floor

that is not years later
—for the first time its brightness
turning to footsteps and further.

Simon Perchik is an attorney whose poems have appeared in Partisan Review, The Nation, Poetry, Osiris, The New Yorker, and elsewhere. His most recent collection is Almost Rain, published by River Otter Press (2013). For more information, free e-books and his essay titled “Magic, Illusion and Other Realities”, please visit his website at http://www.simonperchik.com.

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One Response to You teach this rag how, fold in…

  1. Tiegan says:

    For some reason I’m fans of poems featuring tercets. Awesome 🙂

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