I held something in my hand:
the world—perhaps—the word—
I think it is.
Soft.
Deceptive.
I dropped it down a well
—heard it splash—
no longer looked for you,
just hoped—water-logged—it would sink
but it sparkles like a gem
those times I thirst.
I was poor,
could have used it to buy me shelter
for a time
but instead I slept under the rain.
Right now,
this is the time ahead—
I watch the satellites light the sky—
I conceive something in the mechanized fire,
birthed—forged—something I held in my hand—
the word—new.
I look for you,
smile,
and walk away.
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Comments
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In the place where long grass opens, the girl who waited to be loved and cry shame erupts into her separate parts, to make it easy for the chewing laughter to swallow her away.
-Beloved, Toni Morrison
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In the place where long grass opens, the girl who waited to be loved and cry shame erupts into her separate parts, to make it easy for the chewing laughter to swallow her away.
-Beloved, Toni Morrison
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"It frightens me the awful truth of how sweet life can be" Bob Dylan
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In the place where long grass opens, the girl who waited to be loved and cry shame erupts into her separate parts, to make it easy for the chewing laughter to swallow her away.
-Beloved, Toni Morrison
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