untitled…for now
18May07
Something inside me tore
Not a break or a snap
But a ripping of seams
Not suddenly but slowly over time
Gossamer fibers separated from too much tension
Each day more divided and vulnerable
Each day further frayed
We beings learn of our fragility
Far too late to protect ourselves
That was before
Now, the scent of dead leaves
Fills the halls and permeates our skin
So even in the midst of healing
The odor still lingers as a reminder
And as the threat of the horizon draws near
There will be a new tear
An external ripping that
Helps repair the tear beneath the surface
Four hundred voices rise to signify
Both an end and a beginning
And shiny black birds take wingless flight
Into the tepid spring air
Filed under: untitled...for now | 1 Comment
I feel, I feel. I feel when I read this. That is it, all I have to say.