Guest Poet
Audrey Griffin
by Audrey
Griffin
Lo
is
the space between words
the little blank between “oh” and “okay
a little dot of punctuation
at the end of my lines
the curtain call,
the fade to black.
Lo breathes the mist
onto the windows
and scampers away
only seen by spruce
and maple.
She can be a seatbelt buckle
on a hot day
communion stuck to the roof
of a mouth
the blink after
shocking news.
She can stomp on ants
on spiders
on hummingbirds.
I have never met a girl
to fear more
than her,
nor one as sly,
and I long to be as
simple
and
precise
as
Lo.
Copyright 2012
Audrey Griffin