Lynn Levin

My Hours

All my life I have passed
through curtains of mist.
When have I lived and why?
I have spent so much
of my life in aimless hours—
lost in weeds, lost in flowers.

The rare bird of desire
once fed from my hand.
In my scattered way I seek it
still, old tormentor, old friend

then flee from its golden wings
its sharp little beak and watch
it fly in its wavy way
to the thistle that lets it stay.

Offering One’s Hand to a Stranger

At twenty-six, traveling for business
feeling important and proud, I sat on a plane
that pierced a storm cloud.
My coffee spilled and my tears.
I had just begun to meet my life
and now death barging in!

Then calm as the captain’s drawl
an older woman next to me
asked if I wanted to hold her hand.
There we sat dovetailed—
I floating in her peace.
I can barely express the comfort I felt
for if I were to die
I would not die alone nor would she
who from my depths uplifted me.

Lynn Levin’s most recent collection of poems is Miss Plastique (Ragged Sky Press, 2013), a Next Generation Indie Book Awards finalist in poetry. She teaches creative writing at the University of Pennsylvania.