When My Gaze Strays

[When my gaze strays]


When my gaze strays
From the page,
I see my mottled hand
Resting on the tabletop,
A tired thing sleeping.

When I read the poem
Aloud, my hand revives.
It wants to dance
In the air in time
To the words.

It wants
To make a sweeping gesture
As if clearing cobwebs
Or yanking back
A heavy curtain
To reveal the world.


Gregory Orr

Posted over on Poetry Daily