my head is full of diamonds
that cannot be fished with a net
they fall through the holes
clatter in a flurry
of sharp tumbles
he offers tweezers
to grip them like eyelashes
but I am afraid of scratches
and memory loss
so I leave them
in the darkness
and wonder
if there is no light,
are they even diamonds anymore
1 comment:
oh, jamie, where are you finding all these beautiful poems?
they are pouring across this unsettled sky and lighting the way to winter's white splendor....
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