A round face filling the angular doorframe
Which should be empty at this time of morning
The five elements releasing the flow of tears
A field mouse frozen to the driveway,
its tail nudged by my toe
A frantic whoop
An anguished cry
I won’t pick you up
Brush off the snow and move on
How quickly we forget the culture of death that pervades our lives.
Until we are surprised again.
evanescentIncrements
/ March 15, 2013I love the way you use a literal events to illuminate internal issues; beauty is pain in poetry, I think.
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Jennifer Butler Basile
/ March 15, 2013Yes, it’s much easier to be profound when things suck, huh!?
Thank you for your insights.
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