Tearing Apart

(a series of short notes)

Cotton threads –
yellow and blue:
butterfly colors captured,
caged and weaved
into lifeless pattern
of a mouth perpetually
open to the sky.

***

He falls often
because
he laughs often.

***

The sun too bright to bear,
love too heavy to confiscate.

***

Obscurity:
an escape?
…release?
a sinful liberty.

***

The white plastic bag swirls
in the air:
translucent and virgin;
a grubby truck whooshes past
sucking the bag under the wheel in its frenzy
squashing the air out, tearing it apart.

Mud-spattered now:
weighty,
clinging to the ground,
shivering.

***

The sand is falling
falling
falling
from the hour-glass
of our lives
minute
by
precious
minute.

***