Dwell

Be a torn page
Tumbling down
Blacktop
In a gray drizzle.

I guess you’re old news now.

Get caught
In an updraft —
Uplifted —
But for what?
Taken hard
By that jet stream strong
And strange…

It never used to bother me.

There —
Then one day
Gone
And tumbling down that highway.

Hands will turn other pages
And those eyes —
Unfocused first —
Settle on
A new lexicon.

But it’s okay.
Let’s not linger.
Turn it into ink on paper,
Then tumble it down
The blacktop
In the rain.

Somewhere,
There’s a graveyard
For torn newsprint
And inkblood worries.
And somewhere,
A standing stone
Waits for your muddy bones,
Too.

 

Shared for OpenLinkNight at the dVerse Poets Pub Week 20…because this has long been one of my favorites…

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About Emily

I may or may not have: A. Dirt B. Ink C. Paint D. Wool under my fingernails.

8 responses to “Dwell”

  1. Jingle says :

    powerful and haunting piece.
    well done.

  2. apoetryman says :

    Wow what fantastic use of imagery to make me feel the optimism, only for it to be ripped away ~ loved it

  3. claudia says :

    ahh what a ride it can be…it doesn’t bother me either…let’s move with the wind..torn, tumble down…upstream next day…and we bleed it ink on paper… i like..

  4. brian miller says :

    eep….yes death is always coming…i like the imagery of the pages tossed in the wind down the street…there is a certain haunting in the tone of this piece..nice write…

  5. Lori McClure (@lorimcspeaks) says :

    It does seem that life is as fragile as a crumpled piece of paper sometimes. The inevitability can stir us to make every moment count. Nice 🙂

  6. Seek the Sun says :

    Love the “inkblood worries”…last stanza is my favorite! Nice piece!

  7. Gay Reiser Cannon says :

    Great imagistic metaphors here. The open road metaphor with flyaway bits blowing along with us and nothing as sure as change. Aging and headed for more things to decay into the soil with us. Well written.

  8. Caty says :

    love how you lead us on up and downs right to the ending…
    “And somewhere,
    A standing stone
    Waits for your muddy bones,
    Too”

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