Sadness is not a puzzle
To be solved
By slotting each jagged piece
In just the right place
Grabbing all the edge bits
And leaving the vague till last
It is a broken thing
Waiting
For the making new
A mosaic of jagged pieces
painstakingly placed
By trial and error
Into a picture that
Breathes and stretches
as it gets made
Always resisting the urge
To rebuild what once was broken
These razor edges resist
The anesthesia
Of forgetting their birth
It is standing at the tomb of an old friend
And calling the unknown to rise.
Sunday, February 18, 2018
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