Games For a Tuesday Conversation
In a sentence,
wrapped shawl-like around our actions,
we’ve divided this bit of Tuesday
into segments of time,
constructing life,
a paragraph mimed in fast motion.
This Lego truth owes its existence
to the same architect who wrote
the song you love,
that vase of winter flowers,
a crinkled photograph
in a wallet without money.
Between the eye and the word,
asphalt is a snake,
and our cognitive center
plays bumper-truth,
always trying
for the highest score.
3 comments:
wow!
haven't read you in ages-- been missing some new developments I see.
Helm,
How interesting...I was going to say what K. said, (Hi Aisha), "long time no see."
Your voice is very relaxed in this poem. Accustomed to considering man's place. Yes, we are of this world.
Carol
Thanks K and C, I had a great start to the year, writing poetry, then things trailed off. But...I did reach one hundred posts.
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