Woe
Published in
1 min readJun 22, 2019
Maybe silver wind chimes startled
fuzzy tendrils in my ears
when the glossy metal shimmered
or the subtle carvings gleamed.
In the battle a surrender
never feels deserved enough,
nor does churning feelings over
scrape away the gritty doubt.
Was I tired? Was I listening?
Slender silver ringing tubes
render notes in eerie discord
grating soul’s unreal wounds.
Sensing matter with my fingers,
feeling rugged dimpled rocks,
resting heavy arms on fine dust
mixed with tiny marble shards,
purple gem shines on my finger
cut prism decomposing light.
Of the colors of the rainbow
only six refract tonight.