August 7, 2012

mend

Within a moment
Suspended
Mending in the air
Grinding time
A rainbowed bubble
Swims swimming

Through oil lamps
It looks like rain
Tip toed reluctance
I stop
Going at every
Shut-eyed pause
Inside out sleep
Stretched with a breath
Little obsessive drops
Sparkling stars
As round sour pills
Down swift river laps
Shoring up blood thickets
Branches hold debris
Like the fortunes of
New born babies
Rolling in currents
Spinning sticky browns
Middle-life scaled skin
Now a translucent plastic dance
Held by slight wind
This scroll
These words
My desires
Left beneath my skin
Stops with the sound
Of my heart
Mended

7 comments:

iBeingMe said...

I love it..

Anonymous said...

Well written!!

Uma Anandane said...

Well penned poem !

Brian Miller said...

wow really nice flow like the river that runs through your words...i know the dreams just under the skin...and how sometimes we wonder if we will ever see them...but that is up to the river....

hedgewitch said...

Not a jaunt through the obvious, but a layered raft down a river of dividing currents...I just hung on, wondering where I'd end up, and very much liked the place where my flimsy raft came to rest, and your poem to its neat resolution.

Gwen Dubeau said...

Lively words and moving piece right to the end. Enjoyed it, thank you.

ayala said...

A nice write !