Thanks to e.e. cummings for the idea
One Single Day
The rising sun lights
up my scattered frayed poems
giving them places
they can go and live.
As the day goes on I dry
out behind my ears
and my words dry out
too, as if I am wiser
but I am not, not
anything much, a mollusc
clinging to woody
vertical splinters
painted with dim flawed spilled ink
and the setting sun
offers me somewhere
to go as night severs flight
and my poems land
all about my toes.
I do a stylish lilting dance
and span forever.
June 20, 2013 3:24 PM
Edward Estlin "E.E." Cummings (October 14, 1894 — September 3, 1962) was an American poet, painter, essayist, author, and playwright. His body of work encompasses approximately 2,900 poems, two autobiographical novels, four plays and several essays, as well as numerous drawings and paintings. He is remembered as an eminent voice of 20th century poetry.
That sounds mildly painful.
ReplyDeleteI hope it's okay with you. To me it sounds kind of like life. ee cummings had a poem with a similar theme that I took off from, so I know there are at least two of us that see it like this.
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