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Scott Kraus

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Two Opposites

Here we are. 
Two opposites. My tiny bed couldn’t
Fit both our wingspans,
So we sleep apart. In time,
In space.

If I am a still water collected in the street, and
The world is an indifferent ocean,
Then she is the ocean reflected,
She is the infinite sky,
Gorgeous and unreachable, 

Without form, sleepless on her couch.

When dawn
Fills space with heavy reality, we are human again,
We both get up, and like strangers,
We greet the day with fear and
The indelible sense that
Something yet unnamed was lost,
And something yet to be
Has crept still further away.

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About Scott Kraus

Scott Kraus writes from Hamtramck, Michigan where he walks interminably, always on the lookout for some new rift in the universe.

(c) Scott Kraus