I don’t know.
The water runs
over the humming heater
and something invisible
makes everything go
but what enemy of freedom
tucked under the hem of nature
makes this so?
I don’t know.
I travel in time
but not in space.
Like a stone.
A sinking stone
with water like hell
around me,
and a thinking stone
to make it all tragic.
Why must I feel this way,
and why burden you?
I don’t know.
I drink a coffee
with ghosts rising
to tickle my nose.
My baby child having escaped
his crib is silently stacking
blocks.
Each a pixel of color,
a letter of meaning,
and the shape of foundations.
He laughs when the tower is no more.
Advertisement
Like this:
One blogger likes this post.
Your words flow effortlessly, painting vivid pictures, transporting the reader through time and space… always a pleasure to visit your blog.
As you know, I always find inspiration and enjoyment in your work. Thank you for the visit.