Wednesday, March 4, 2009

cloth

twist me up 

wring me out 

leave your bare hands raw and pink 

spotted flesh


let the droplets of me pucker the soil below

little craters 

of what was 

what is

and what will be

me


puncture the ground 

with your force

and gravity


let me nourish the sod


let the things you didn't want to say wring me out one last time 

as dampness squirms 

lacing your fingers


you fight back 

don’t let me weave through

wont let me mix 


pleats hold the moisture 

inconceivably permanent


nature evaporates

in its own measure


1 comment:

  1. this is beautiful.
    this is one of my favorites.

    ReplyDelete