To Sean
Cog

I seldom know
what he wonders.

His face directly
shows its absence.

And I what if
myself into the how

without the whys.
He looks to me

to feel the teeth on the cogs,
make the motion fit,
bite the pondered notion.

He knows
I'll erase the absence,

turn his direction.

I constantly wonder.


©2001 Peggy Putnam Owen





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