Jennifer Camp

Swaying giants conduct orchestra of green,
rustle-flutter blue breeze, notes crunching
in scratches between limb and limb above

sheared grass tufts too short to bend
and a woman’s stroller trailing a baby
blanket sweeping pollen dust over

concrete while a little boy, blue hat reaching
my chest, makes no sound (how can that be)
and walks backwards, one sandaled foot

behind the other, bright eyes fixed on
a place within, and I wonder what else
there is you want me to feel hear see.

-jennifer j. camp

This post appeared originally at jenniferjcamp.com

I will play hide-and-seek with you
if that’s the game you want to play.
I will cover my eyes and count while you
run run and imagine how to be invisible,
situate yourself so the
space envelopes
you fully 
maybe by shadow maybe by sound,
your own breathing held so you can’t
feel your heart, as if that would work;
but I will uncover my eyes,
unwrap fingers from brow
and begin the first steps of
looking looking for what you
hope I will find again.

-jennifer j. camp

This post appeared originally at jenniferjcamp.com

I like that about you
the way you pause,
your eyes crinkled and bright.

I hear you, your
attempts to find what it was
you wanted to say.

I speak into you now,
your voice becoming mine,
mine becoming yours.

Trust it. Keep moving:
me in you / you in me

-jennifer j. camp

This post appeared originally at jenniferjcamp.com