I Could Not. . .


I could not see.

and sewing buttons

from belly,

and nose yet to form–

realized I didn’t breathe

(without)

so pinching peeks,

I poked holes

wherein all sound ceased.

then silently

ripped lower–

‘til gum flapped into

bubbles

barely big enough for loft

(in life–less form)

and missing you,

I could not love

set shaping hearts

–in coal, and sand–

played both hands of deck.

About Charron's Chatter

I bring to you an arrow, whole, Use it, or break it, But if you choose to take it --Know-- With it also, I will go. © Karen Robiscoe @1992

Comments are closed.

%d bloggers like this: