Monday, November 27, 2023



Because Words Do Not Suffice

Your hands like that    The grass    The sun

Your lips like that    The grass    The rain

It was only that it was so green    The smell of it

The rain that coiled around the grass    The sun

that touched its roots

Only to lie there    My nose furrowed deep in it

As if a moment can be left    The smell of it deep

in the muscles    In the veins

And underneath   As the nostril quivers    lost in the

touch of it    Because we feel the loss of it    Because

we feel the death of it

That too much rain will drown the grass    That too much sun

will dry the rain    That only in moments is love possible


Susan Sherman

With Anger / With Love

selections: Poems & Prose

Mulch Press, 1974