The Sense of Feel
Some feel the deep oceans. Some feel the
blackbird pecking at winter’s crusted seeds.
Some feel cracking ice in spring thaw.
Others sense the universe expanding in the
bourbon dark, fragmented galaxies growing
further and further apart in the way of dead
relationships.
Feel or sense: a type of discernment, unconscious
recognition of nuance—the bird following
magnetic lines, the bear fat on fall’s acorns, the
dusky wind carrying centuries’scents, the woman
in the window pulling on lingerie for the lover who
never comes.
Some feel the footsteps always walking—to
nowhere, to somewhere while some sense
the pregnant stroll will always be futile.
Even the leaves, the rocks, snow skimming
the ground, flowered trees, feel what can’t
be felt, discarded lingerie the same.
Whether felt or sensed, the dark between
the stars grows ever larger, and earth
will not come walking forward to the
banqueting hall.
Ralph Monday is Professor of English at Roane State Community College in Harriman, TN., and has published hundreds of poems in over 100 journals. A chapbook, All American Girl and Other Poems, was published in July 2014. A book Empty Houses and American Renditions was published May 2015 by Aldrich Press. A Kindle chapbook Narcissus the Sorcerer was published June 2015 by Odin Hill Press. An e-book, Bergman’s Island & Other Poems is scheduled for publication by Poetry Repairs in Feb. of 2017, and a humanities text is scheduled for publication by Kendall/Hunt in 2018. Website: Ralph Monday