Woe

Francis Rosenfeld
Collected Poems by Francis Rosenfeld
1 min readJun 22, 2019

--

From Collected Poems by Francis Rosenfeld

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.

--

--