the rocks in the river are changing
every day into different shapes, eras
& eons of unremarkable becoming
right there next to my walking path,
& the woods nearby where something
is singing & something is as startled
by the same snapping branch as I. time is
heavy & hanging. how lovely your hips
I cannot see, the mountain of them
beneath the sheet. there is something
of a black endlessness up there, but it is
raining & when I cannot see I wonder
what carries these storms over us.
I often notice more when I am more
language than living: some days
the pebbles giggle, & some days, after
the white-throated sparrows have all
flown southward in their one, squawking
bundle, I cannot stand the silence, the
little waits for something, something.
Little Weights
Will Summay (he/him) is a poet and psychotherapist based in Pittsburgh, PA. He has been previously published in the Michigan Quarterly Review (forthcoming), Seaford Review, & Change, Volume Poetry, Stone Of Madness, among others.