Surrendering this Strand



There’s an infinite amount
of space in the world, it seems,
and yet none of it is mine
for keeping.

Limbs akimbo,
I am too wide for my own
ravaged sigh
….-lence.

Curled fetal,
I am apostrophe un
-possessed.

Remember when we
combed the sandy tresses
of this abandoned
shore?

You warned me
if we found enough
feathers
………we could fly.

 

 

….

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4 Responses to Surrendering this Strand

  1. The end really punctuates the bitter
    sweetness!

  2. Jen Reyneri says:

    Yes, sister. It’s time to fly. LOVE this!

  3. trip-oid cormlets says:

    This makes me think of aging … surrendering our hair to greyness and shedding. 😛 I love the second and third stanzas.

  4. This is very philosophical and true in the sense that all we really own is our own flight. But the flying (depending on faith) can be a scary venture (you warned me). It’s much easier to pretend that the first stanza is not true and that we do possess something of and in this world.
    I like the “sigh / lence.”
    Superb!

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