The ground is barely liquid;
Nothing holds its form or place.
One should not, nay cannot
Hold on to any one last-minute hand to hold.
Images are shattered, impressions of a moment.
Yet when the temptation arrives to run,
Nothing remains to run on
But shattered mirrors, broken faith.
Shards of life that cut the skin, loosen the veins,
And weaken heart's defenses.
--8.26.08
No comments:
Post a Comment