NPD and a poem in ordinary time
no rhyme, just words
free verse on a mundane day
swept up tidy with my broom
a few shoved into
the washing machine along with
dirty sheets and regrets
a poem, sharp with
fresh cracked black pepper in
the evening's stew. words thought
but unspoken, swallowed with each spoonful
traced with a forefinger into
the cooled broth at the bottom of the bowl
committed to memory, the only rhyme
this day,
the ancient mariner. my albatross
a dull glint around my ring finger.
no rhyme or reason for it.
just a poem in ordinary time.
dark outside now, can't see the words
holding my breath, feigning sleep.
Thursday, August 25, 2005
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