Let’s go see what Now
is like outside.
Let’s open the door
look up at the sky
feel the cold night air
on our noses.
Let’s look at our breath
as we walk out
to the street.
Let’s look at how Now
holds the moon
in black branches,
how stars shine down
with a Now from long
long ago, how
they stare down
on our Now which
has coaxed them
to wink at us.
Let’s listen
to the night sounds
that rove the dark Now
beneath the traffic.
Let’s stop, look back
into the Now at the end
of the street; there
is something there
but I know it is behind us
in a place called Then
where our footprints
have forgotten
we ever made them.
"What Now is Like" by Tamara Madison. Presented here via poet submission.Art credit: Untitled image taken in Minneapolis-St. Paul, Minnesota (USA), by unknown photographer who hosts this site.
Oh, simply beauteous. Every word seems necessary -- and beyond necessary, seems especially graced. I linger over the moon in black branches, and the stars shining down with a Now from long ago. Ms. Madison, if you're listening, profoundest gratitude!
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