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February 18, 2026 Poetry

2 Poems

Sarah Susanna Wood

2 Poems photo

A Small Gift

…is awareness, at first,

and then it may take over,

for a while, and also recede

if it must, and at times, it must.

That sometimes gentle ebb and flow,

and sometimes powerful undercurrent

you must swim parallel to, to get to shore,

on the diagonal. I met a man a day or two

before he drowned; gungho

about the water, he seemed.

He was proving things.

 

Dim

When I think of dim memories, they aren’t, in a sense,

unlit inside my mind, rather they are the ones where

shadows were looming at the time, which I could not see,

having perceived my life as a well-lit space, which it was not.

(And probably neither was/is yours?) Anyway, anyway, anyway…

you know what I mean.

 


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