Painless Poem

by Paul Hostovsky

Remember this poem? Its simple
rooms? Its window full of trees? The white

gable which you loved about this poem,
how its lone triangle seemed to encompass
all humanity? And the spiky yellow sun

exploding somewhere outside this poem?

Of course you do. In fact you’re reciting it
right now, standing on one foot in a room

of a different poem.

Tagged as: Paul Hostovsky