E M Krumholtz Poems

I breathe gymnastics.
I inhale the scent of chalk and exhale competition.
I flex, climb, fly.
I dream gymnastics.
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Canopied cathedral of God's making,
stained glass leaves with etched veins,
choirs of bird-song entwined with whistling wind and shushing foliage
sing heaven's hymns.
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A blindness to what is
Despair, like a heavy, drab sweater
Smothers, encloses, stultifies.
Same thoughts, same thoughts
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Can I sit by the window?
I don't want the middle seat.
My hands and feet are freezing.
I'm not getting any heat!
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A blur of humanity passing on the pavement
Orbiting worlds and contained lives
Spinning through darkness and light
Breezing along - oblivious
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My brother, Tony,
fidgets in the car on the way to Mammoth Cave.
Long has he wondered where all the woolly mammoths went.
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Sleep creeps in, stealthily dragging eyelids behind her,
Insolent somnolence.
Conversation recedes down a vanishing point tunnel.
The shades are drawn.
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