poetry critical

online poetry workshop



The Floor Is Fleeting
eyerite

The floor is fleeting, windows wax and wane,
 1
drapes change to blinds, to walls in a room
 2
lit only by a desk lamp exposing surrendered hands
 3
lying like naked bodies on a heart and brain contained
 4
by a white cage with blue bars and one thin crimson wall.
 5
 
 
A demolition crew waits outside the closed door I grew up behind,
 6
until the baby fell through the cradle into a bed
 7
where he slept alone for twenty-one years while
 8
vultures with jackhammers circled,
 9
wondering if he would wake and stretch his new limbs,
 10
looking something like a man
 11
who feels more like a boy
 12
who died in the bed he grew up in.
 13
 
 
The carpet is no longer the color
 14
of the dirty sea or the evening sky,
 15
and the walls are not mine.
 16
 
 
I slept through a child’s lifetime
 17
in a dark cell lined with the contents
 18
of countless calendars and damning diaries.
 19
 
 
I wonder if my new box will have as many walls and windows,
 20
if there will be room for my collection of days
 21
and lives lived by people who do not exist.
 22
 
 
As I tread across the threshold of a ship going north,
 23
I glance back and smile at you, who I imagined,
 24
smiling back at me, with one arm and hand swaying
 25
like a delicate white flag in the wind.
 26

14 Dec 08


(define the words in this poem)
(11 more poems by this author)



Add A Comment:
Enter the following text to post as unknown: captcha

Comments:

0.409s