Tuesday, April 19, 2016

Words, II

Words.
A barrage of letters,
all connected
into dainty necklaces
that manage to deliver
agonizing news.


A thud against his barrel chest,
like the newspaper
thwacks
against the cement stoop
in the darkness
of the morning hours.
I watch as he cracks open
from top to bottom
down his sternum,
and then
side to side.


A large ravine stares at me,
dares me to do something,
to fix him and his broken body.
But I realize that
there's nothing 
that will help him now.
That words
will never be enough
to mend the gaping hole.


But that's all I have now
to offer him,
and all he can trust.
He hopes to unjumble the letters
and weave together
a blanket of words
that relieve and soothe and heal.
Words that tell a story.


Photos found at http://www.mnn.com/lifestyle/arts-culture/stories/why-your-brain-can-read-jumbled-letters; http://news.discovery.com/earth/odd-cause-of-gaping-siberian-holes-possibly-found-140731.htm; Pixabay

2 comments:

S. B. House said...

I haven't been commenting on it all... but I'm enjoying your poetry this month :)

Christina said...

Thanks. I'm no poet, but I'm having fun with it. As usual, thanks for reading!