Saturday, September 29, 2012

The Unraveling #1


Startled,
the small birds scattershot
from the road-side trees--
somehow re-gather, a dark
recollection given flight.

Words thrown up--as if--
protection from a summer fog.
Long, the wayward--the torn fabric
pulled up sharp.
Not a word for the
way it went.

Still, wouldn't it be something--
jolted out of life, a pre-existing
condition--to wordlessly gather
together--
the sun lighting up the water--
shot through a bank of clouds
deliberately--

The rent of what was
left of us
slowed down just enough
so everyone could see.

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