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 Michael H. Levin: Poems and Prose  

MEIN LEIPZIG

(Equinox 2012)

Dark head bobbing in a chevron wake

disconnected as the space surged

you slipped through the O

of our grasp.


Cool as Wisconsin, you forgot

safe dreams are toxic, that fear is how we fly --

stood off, maneuvering. We scan your log now

seeking its theme.


Cold virtues are an ancient curse --

they reek of Artemis and Mimë.

To wall one’s heart denying, is to

starve the self away.


Our saving grace is to open

like glories; for openness is all

the earth we have, we dots on the

sliding gray plates


of a following sea.

Poetica Magazine (Spring 2016)

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