a poem by Joyce Sutphen.

The Idea of Living

 

It has its attractions,

chiefly visual: all those

 

shapes and lines, hunks

of color and light (the way

 

the gold light falls across

the lawn in early summer,

 

the iridescent blue floating

on the lake at sunset),

 

and being alive seems

to be a necessity if you want

 

to sit in the sun or rub your

toes in the sand at the beach.

 

You need to be breathing

in order to eat paella and

 

drink sangria, and making love

is quite impossible without

 

a body, unless you are one

of those, given—like gold—

to spin in airy thinness forever.

__________

“The Idea of Living” by JOYCE SUTPHEN from Modern Love & Other Myths, Red Dragonfly Press, 2015.