Marbles

9 02 2009

I spit out
the thoughts of you

that roll through my body,
ridge and bump my skin.
Blue marbles –
sticky memories
that have clattered
too long in my mind.

I’ll place them
laden
on a paper boat
that forgets its way
down the river.

Spring rain will claim them
glowing by moonlight,
but
come autumn,
again, I’ll dredge the river bottom


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2 responses

10 02 2009
Bindo

Yass!

22 02 2009
Teena

Feiss, said at AW – must say again. I love this piece. It’s one of your best.

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