Wednesday, October 30, 2024

Jack Dreaming Beanstalk

Now memory falters
At the slightest interruption.
There’s a blur,

Somewhere between now
And never.
You don’t know what
Will happen there.

You wish you had magic words
Like magic beans
You could shove in the earth
Before bed, then sleep

To wake to floating lights
In the room before death at dawn.
Harvest the poem.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.