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



One Response to “untitled…for now”  

  1. 1 SoCo

    I feel, I feel. I feel when I read this. That is it, all I have to say.


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