Sunday, January 11, 2009

The Sunday 2:56 PM Poem Moment [#Two]

Leaves
astound
a single leaf
grows year round
natural requiem
as incursions surround
to blow it from its stem

it flutters
twirls, unhurried
filling gutters
skimming ground

here I stutter:
I live in a cell
it's insane, I know
I wait for a bell
they bring food

What next they bring
glimpse of life outside
or possibly paper, and ink
or nature of my crime

Possibly a letter with a leaf
from home would suffice
to explain my identity
explain I am young not twice
with work still in my hands

but I speak a language
my captors do not know
whether they understand me..

waiting is too cold

unbound me
send me away
as a leaf in winter
blowing far and free

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