Christopher Stocks

Poetry

Subject

It is finding the shadow
Tracing the place between
Stopping, for a few long moments
Where one would usually hurry by
To listen for something
That has always been there.

It is looking up,  when everyone else
Is looking down. It is
Watching the sky slide overhead
While the teeming ground stays still.
It is being quiet, and doing
The impossible: looking
At what is right in front of you.

It is smelling something
That has a quarter of one thing
And three quarters of another.
It is knowing when to stop,
And when to begin.