A document, a form, a letter:
Thoughts materialized.
Trees bear paper, not
Like fruit or blossoms. Alchemy
Yields paper, as I
Understand it. Pulp
Of pulverized splinters, thick as oatmeal
Is pressed into thin leaves,
Sheets, like something woven
And tossed on a bed, skimming a body,
Sleeping or almost asleep.
goodness... i'm in absolute awe of how far you can go into creating metaphor parallels, visual examplifiers (and all those adjectives i'm using... poetic convenience !!!)
ReplyDelete*thumbs up*!!
oh, i love this! it's not only beautiful but there's a haunt in this poem that i absolutely adore. the voice of the poem has a quality of omen to it that sends me reeling. maybe because of alchemy and splinters and thick oatmeal... love!
ReplyDeletei totally agree with the above comment.