snapshot poem 06 november 2007
the string has broken
i am picking up the beads
of my life
they are dissonant
discordant
there is no harmony here
was there ever a pattern?
some have fallen
into the grate
i'll never retrieve them
they are rolling down
a long culvert
it is dark here, unnavigable
i am lost
listen, the beads are rattling
pick up this one, this one
place them on the paper
one, then another. another.
these words on this page.
one, then another. another.
was there ever a pattern?
these poems fall through
the grate, they roll down
a long culvert
they rattle against the dark
--
~ SB | http://www.sbpoet.com | =^..^=
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