Shift

one recent evening
i glanced sidelong at you
and there occurred the slightest shift.
your neck,
inconsequential a moment before,
had become a sensual target.
your words blended together,
familiar in tone but
suddenly indecipherable.
isn't that something,
i thought to myself.

Kirsten Larsen 2008

When I told my friend of over twenty years--my best friend forever in the common parlance--that I had started this blog, I received the most wonderful gift: this untitled poem, which she had written for a friend of hers. I knew she was an excellent writer; twenty years of correspondence had given ample evidence of this, but never before have I heard her even hint at writing poetry. We are a friendship of opposites: coffee versus tea, Bitch magazine versus romance novels, film festivals versus knitting. But we know each other well, we trust each other and we love each other. We have a shared history of laughter and tears and frustration and triumph. Even given all that, I do not feel I am biased in thinking her poem excellent. If you, too, think it excellent, please speak up.