OF YOU
You’ve been the wolf, you’ve been the bear,
you were the grass when I was air,
the hush of the lake, eyes and lips,
a shyness at my fingertips,
a motion that knew when to slow,
the forest where I always go;
and now you are the windowsill
I rest my elbows on until
the night grows dark and I can’t see
these silhouettes of you and me.
—from Rattle #42, Winter 2013
Rattle Poetry Prize Finalist
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Wendy Videlock: “I know nothing about poetry except that it is good medicine for what ails us, gives meaning to what shadows us, and adds weight to what assails us. I am grateful it is persistent.” (web)
