Thursday, 9 May 2013

Weight (poetry)

Heavy dank fog
A scarred heart
Dark and ominous
Hands grasp out for something tangible
I see it
I reach for it
A voice tells me to.
But when my fingers curl
There is only the moisture
Of tears
To grasp
I’m left,
with a fist
My fingers touching nothing
But the palm of my hand
Encircling particles
Of someone else’s
And my own…

- Judi Reed, 2013

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