I see in her face
that oh, she needs it too—
a gap in the day,
cloistered though not
confining,
person-
sized pocket to slip into,
buffered as by a cloud’s
sheer inner lining,
for a breath
of self-replenishment,
self-repair,
or only just
a breath,
(stanza break)
and then
(I promise!)
out again,
far from too much
to ask,
so with the full force
of my small ferocity,
I importune the air:
“What would it cost
you who are only
lavish, seamless,
great incorporeal sprawl
of everywhere?—
open!
And admit us.”
—Claire Bateman, first appeared in Every Day Poems, featured in The Joy of Poetry, T. S. Poetry Press