Collections for Sale

From Yair Haklai via Wikimedia Commons

Twenty-seven raindrops inside a cup of white:

inseparable. Sold for a song to a thirsty Helicida.

The lily, bent down by the indolent mollusc

went unsold and unpicked that day.

Eight slices of homemade banana bread

(forged by three years of practice and care)

exchanged for a seat and a plate and a spoon

a feast worth its salt (suo sale) with prayer.

One thousand and one scraps of paper with hope

sent out to the world: what does it know of dreams?

From Flickr user Orangetopic via Wikimedia Commons

Two phone calls, three emails, nine hundred rejections:

A resume — meine Träume — fit for a king.

Three sharp pangs of grief from electronic ghosts:

a network unknowing of Θανατος.

No price is sufficient for turning time back,

so the holes resume echoing loss.

Six billion echoes of dreams once forgotten

Were offered for auction:

but nobody bid.