enough. For now.


in all this world
there are feelings
and – deliberately
punctuated, just so
weirdly), but
not quite said in cummings-fashion –

In all this world
(the heart remembers)
an archipelago breathing
passion beneath waves and a sailor’s
hands holding one perfect
crest of desire, nevertheless
missing the Neruda mark _

In all this world
I often find:
I am incomplete;
connections partially get
lost, and expectations are wholly
confused by something awkward
(learned long ago).
Yet, I still get to know how
laughter feels in the glow of my
beloved’s face, and red wine rests against
a curved glass wall
and the room is warmed with friendship bound
by art and some tender bit of crisscrossed
stitching we call “hope.”

In all this world –
it’s got to be enough. For now.

© martha lee phelps
(~ for Beth: the art and the artist.)