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Summer, 2008

James Lineberger

Words, These Soft Words

words these soft words

dance before me
like floaters
epiphany translucent ricochet
now near now far as mysterious as
a spring rain
that seems to rise not


but why this should occur on a day
so busy with other things
it should suddenly be
only words that comfort me
and strange ones
at that words i never use in normal discourse
makes me wonder if
there are totems perhaps embedded in the appearance of things
more so than in
their accustomed meanings
the skin stretched tautly over them as when
in super slow motion
on film with no sprockets we see the millisecond
movement of a pole vaulter
stretching his body to the limit
a motion so prolonged that it no longer attaches itself
to the act but becomes
a thing unto itself a constantly changing image
like our lives passing by
so slowly
so incredibly fast we cannot say who
or what we are until the film glides through
and the screen
goes white and we