thinking .
We were stones
We were stones
And the rings
We made spread
In all directions
I have lived
Like a rustled blade
Husky and blunt as the
whispering Spring
Do you need to know how?
Do you need to know why?
We now
We here
Could kiss
Our wrists entwined
It would feel like
Beginning
Or a razing of
the fields
So that it was you
Always had been you
Who sat in those rooms
Those cars
Those corridors
Lights warped with tears
Years plowing the undersides
Of our hands
As highways became lanes
Streets, familiar tasting names
And I was singing out aloud sometimes
Those neverknown refrains
But you could never
have known me
Before we fell into
this place
I was a husk
Beneath the dirt
With a very life at stake
#NaPoWriMo 2014 poem number 30
© Brendan Bonsack
April 2014
