The Dream of Hide and Seek – Daniel Stewart
Maybe meaning
is the search
for meaning. Today
I am tired. I slept
like a ghost wanders.
I slept so hard I folded
into myself the way
the tulips last night
wilted from a late
spring frost. The cats
didn’t even recognize
- They didn’t build
a temple to the God
of Absence out
of my breath. It’s a
waste; time flakes
like dead skin from
my hands, a righteous
slough. Time taps its
own face, tisk tisk.
I considered beauty,
but I was only a child,
and what was more beautiful
than silence? I’m
still learning to speak,
still learning my
lessons, still counting
to 100 while everyone
hides. There are tracks
in the grass; someone’s
trampled the daffodils.
The search bores me.
Now I am the God
of Absence. It’s your turn
to be it. If you want me
come find me. If not
let me sleep.
Daniel Stewart teaches for the Writers in the Schools. The author of the collection of poetry, The Imaginary World (Wolf Peach Press), his poems appeared in or are forthcoming from BOAAT, Rattle, Prairie Schooner, Educe: A Journal of Queer Literature, Parentheses, Sixfold, Thrush Poetry Journal, Yes Poetry, Scab, and elsewhere.