as is


My heart hurt thinking about you

so I bought a book of poems

I may already have:

a line so small and heartbreaking

crept up on me

and slipped itself inside me and

stopped me dead in my tracks

and I trembled

– and yet, I may already have this line

in the very same book I may already own

and yet what if I am wrong

that is the question

about the book at home

and later this evening,

the store closed,

lights out, everybody

gone, home, alone, one lamp lit,

wondering how I dreamed up such a mistake

– what a terrible desolation – and

yet I am now driving home,

book in hand, so to speak,

in a bag resting in the passenger seat,

and the only surprise still possible

is this:

what if on the other hand,

I now have two beautiful slim volumes

of the exact same book of poems,

each with the hidden line I love,

one for me and the other for you.



chris woodhull

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