ALL THAT IS SHE

Eliza Blank, Founder and CEO of The Sill

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Daily Haiku on Love by Tyler Knott Gregson

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tylerknott

Typewriter Series #2104 by Tyler Knott Gregson

Text for Tired Eyes:

Lightning heard of my birth, and came hunting; its thunder shook the walls of the river side hospital, it lit up the sea, a few miles East.  We wouldn’t meet again, for years, but I felt her searching.

I stared out windows as a child, I could feel her before she arrived.  Crazy, I said, in the broken language of the unlearned, the unpracticed, when I see her, I be that.  

We met once.  Danced, once, and she said I felt familiar.  She knew my mother, teenaged and front porch swinging, she showed her darkness for a time.  She met my father too, press box mingling, he stayed seated and she didn’t appreciate the lack of respect.

One day, she’ll come again.  She heard of my birth and came hunting.  Some dances never end, she whispered, through rain soaked windows of river side hospitals, of Volkswagen vans highway hurtling, of school classrooms, of houses built with my own hands.

She sends thunder, I hear music.