Certain Days
by Grace Paley
On certain days I am not in love
and my heart turns over
crowding the lungs for
air
driving blood in and out of
the skull improving my mind
working muscles to the bone
dashing resonance out of a roaring sea
at my nerve endings
Not much is needed
air
good sense
power
a noisy taking in and a
loud giving back
Then my heart like any properly turned
motor takes off in sparks dragging all that machinery
through the blazing day
like grass
which our lord knows
I am
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Hey, thanks for your thoughts and your time:>)