Peaceful Presence

 

I’m never sure whether privilege or luxury
but there’s peace in your presence; even
when you’re not here there’s a sense of it

Doesn’t mean detritus inevitably tells tales
or claims wider powers than mere memory
but the logic of it always comforts

For sure, animated conversations replay a
dated litany of what needs change, eidetic
self-confessions as interior monologues

Maybe some things are meant to be given
where the better is – needless to say that
plays lead violin with easy confidence

And the boot debris disappears along with
daily sweeps – while the dog hair grows a
presence of entropic redolence

But we make way respectfully between an
anarchic misanthropy afraid of itself and a
new anthropology of who we truly are

This peaceful presence places me there, a
chance meeting takes considered sense, a
space shared becomes circumference
© 1 May 2013, I. D. Carswell