Semblance

If someday

our vines

tapered into the sky,

even if you twine the downspout

and I take the open air, exposing

myself at every angle,

perhaps the eventual sameness

of sky cannot be

dismissed.

But there is a question

of threshold. If you enter the sky, I may not

agree.

Say you feel the sky envelop

you at roof-level? 

Say my tolerance is higher,

entreating a deeper blue?

And there will be a confrontation

with the sun. At this inescapable hour,

the sun will be asking

for shadows. Your larger leaves projected upon

a sidewalk containing mine. They mingle;

sharpen. Our shapes traceable

when the sun squints,

whether or not

we take notice.

Moments were doors

and we pushed

on the hinges.

It never occurred to either of us

to teach each other

anything but superimposition.

Kinzy Janssen was admitted to several selective poetry workshops at the University of Iowa as an undergraduate, but she was especially influenced by visiting professor, poet Mary Ruefle, who was teaching nonfiction at the time. Her poetry earned an honorable mention in the Wisconsin Arts, Letters, & Sciences 2010 Poetry Contest and she has read and discussed her poetry on the radio, in art galleries, and in particularly welcoming bars.