| On this page: Bricolage, Mask,
and All the Day's Receipts.
For more poetry choose: Next Page. It’s all just common stuff of everyday – bits And pieces –- bric-a-brac, paddy-whack -- memories Of childhood games, best friends, dreams, hopes Plans for a future that never quite arrives but keeps Circling high above – just out of reach – a tune That returns again and again but never quite ends.
The mask I wear is made of glass. A window to my feelings, or a mirror to yours. Depending on where
And on how
All the day’s receipts have been caught up In a taunting whirlwind Important pieces of my life go swirling out just beyond Arm’s reach. I grab frantically, hysterically But the wind only increases with each wild movement. In my hands, I hold the answer I slip the knot, toss the noose High into the air The whirlwind catches the loop and spirals it out, larger And wider – until it encircles all that I cannot Reach. Gently, softly, Firmly, I lasso in all the pieces of my life – All the day’s receipts.
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