I hope I know your limits. I hope
limits are the least of what I know

of you ( — that loves the sense & range
of weather. — that loves the staring-

at-maps. — that will walk in rain
for miles for the simple wetness

of it. — that hides a broken glass
beneath the flower beds. — that breathes

in a manner forged of humidity
& myth. — that hawks the jejune iceberg

lettuce from a window-sill.
– that lets in lightly-salted instruments

of danger too often through a widened
aperture.) I sincerely hope this finds you well.

I hope this finds you.

—
Samuel Wharton’s poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Death Metal Poetry, elimae, foam:e, Memorious, NOÖ Journal, Otoliths, Outside Voices’ 2008 Anthology of Younger Poets, & Stirring. He is the author of a chapbook, Welcome Home, available from NeOPepper Press, & the editor of the online poetry journal Sawbuck.