Break open a poem

Break open a poem and time spills out, not
quite like sand from a fist, too small, too tight;

not quite like rain from a cloud that has drifted
too long — break open a moment within a word,

within a line, and all the moments before it spill
out, not quite like the blur from a speeding train:

the contained is rarely smaller than its container –
possession is only a manner of being. Break open

this night, hold its screams apart, see, all the things I
thought I could bear, can no longer bear themselves.

8 thoughts on “Break open a poem

  1. Beautiful, as always. You are one of the first poetry blogs I started reading 3 or 4 years ago when I first started mine. I just started writing again today after a LONG writers block. I just looked up your blog again to maybe keep inspiring me. Thank you!

    Like

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