You bang the rim the way skies
loosen and this jar at last
starts to open, becomes a second sky
though under the lid her shoulders
wait for air, for the knock
with no horizon curling up on itself
as sunlight, half far off, half
circling down from her arms
end over end, reaching around
making room by holding your hand
–it’s a harmless maneuver
counter clockwise so you never forget
exactly where the dirt was shattered
hid its fragrance and stars
one at a time taking forever.
Simon Perchik is an attorney whose poems have appeared in Partisan Review, Forge, Poetry, Osiris, The New Yorker and elsewhere. His most recent collection is The B Poems published by Poets Wear Prada, 2016. For more information, including free e-books, his essay titled “Magic, Illusion and Other Realities” please visit his website at www.simonperchik.com.