Lift

In the Pacific,
an abyss of swirling plas-
tics; and above us

in Pascal’s terri-
fying heavens, gear castoff
from Earth, floating. And

I? Let symbols be
symbols, contingent for us.
When I turn into

Failing Street and fresh
air off the ocean lifts my
spirits, my spirits

are lifted. And pleased.
Hyperbole catches me
off guard, plural, free.

Author: Tom D'Evelyn

Tom D'Evelyn is a private editor and writing tutor in Portland OR and, thanks to the web, across the US and in the UK. He can be reached at tom.develyn@comcast.net. D'Evelyn has a PhD in Comparative Literature from UC Berkeley. Before retiring he held positions at The Christian Science Monitor, Harvard University Press, Boston University and Brown University. He ran a literary agency for ten years, publishing books by Leonard Nathan and Arthur Quinn, among others. Before moving to Portland OR he was managing editor at Single Island Press, Portsmouth NH. He blogs at http://tdevelyn.com and other sites.

One thought on “Lift”

  1. I’m nobody/who are you? Not nobody, but plural! As you say elsewhere here: the expression of perplexed self-consciousness in the between. Realized in this poem. And I love the acknowledgment that amid the perplexity at times a lift, a smile, unaccountably appears, a little unintended and unearned shiver of delight. Excellent.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s