from “poems for a brown eyed girl”

I’ve been thinking and writing a lot about what I call “the small, open spaces” between us. It’s where hearing takes place, it’s where ‘here’ing takes place. Here is a poem about those small, open spaces.

They stood 

side by side, 

and she reached out 

and took 

his hand

inside of hers. 

Their fingers 

intertwined 

and their palms 

made a small, open space 

between them. 

This place was warm 

in the snow 

that covered the land 

of Point Hope, 

was warm 

against the icy wind 

that blew 

off the Chukchi Sea. 

"Life is 

in the small, open spaces 

between us," 

she said.

And so 

they stood 

quietly, 

hand in hand.

Trevor Scott Barton, poems for a brown eyed girl, 2018