attention by Patrick Kindig

no one can possibly attend continuously
           to an object that does not change
          —william james

for example: sky. for example:
          flame. or an icicle hanging from

a frigid gutter, the sea at rest.
          even a child, sleeping, grows

tiresome, makes the looking eye
          -lid droop. there are limits, after all,

to our attending, to how long
          we can bend a knee before one

thing, genuflect. for example:
          a flower, a spray of clover.

for example: a meadow, no matter
          how lovely. or the lover

who in bed beside you rolls
          closer, sighs, says god,

don’t you wish we could
          stay like this forever?

Patrick Kindig is a PhD candidate at Indiana University, where he studies nineteenth- and twentieth-century American literature. He is the author of the micro-chapbook Dry Spell (Porkbelly Press 2016), and his poems have recently appeared in CutBank, Meridian, Muzzle, Columbia Journal Online, and other journals.