Poem co-written with Kim Vollmer-Lawson.
Trapped rapt adrift in what if
What will what won’t like a song
Locked inside my mind twisting its
Meaning with each new listen
Keeping time, biding, tying
Between loss and luck there is us
Mom said a tincture would heal
Between waiting and getting there
The interlude has its own life, the knife
Blades know their job. Know what will
Cut and what is better left to tear
Its way open.
Blades can’t do this.
Glass is loveliest in shards, in slivers of itself
It wants for sunlight, we hold in esteem the
Glass gone to pieces. We wonder at the
Parts gone missing.
Turning it over in our hands wondering how
Grains of sand became bottle, window pane
Turning it back to the ground so it will
Grow into itself again.