Echos Down the Hall
she imagines a story
from minutia to another
who spins it out again
—
thus the spider drains the fly—
worn from the struggle
and loss of support
I once again pick up
the scraps of my life
and start to sew
—
she pricks her finger
and watches the blood
form a red bead
she thinks as in a dream
of moving but can’t
yet does anyway
she winks and wakes
as if by a lover’s kiss
to a world already here
—
and of course
he had heard
it all before
the stock lines
falling from lips
he longed to kiss
so what the words
meant escaped
unchanged by context
falling between them
like bricks to a wall
from “Sonnet,” (work in progress, line 9, syllables 6-10)
(February 2012)
