Morning Creaks and Cricks
The gentle curve of my spine
as it slips slowly
toward gravity
does not concern me
yet, but there will be a time
when all these funny
slips and sounds
in the morning
will eventually
add up to something
very dark and eternal.
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2 comments:
The Slips and Sounds
Inheriting your antique store
Means less to me
Than I imagined it would in life.
Your belt broke the day
I snapped it on. In the photos
I’m the only one I recognize.
Beware of the secrets you keep
In life, they will go unrecognized
in the sort, inevitable breakage.
Home, I see my own antique shop
Falling into fewer hands
The greater I’m loved on earth.
The lower the selling price
Will be on all these things
You can price and sell for me.
The Slips and Sounds
Inheriting your antique store
Means less to me
Than I imagined it would in life.
Your belt broke the day
I snapped it on. In the photos
I’m the only one I recognize.
Beware of the secrets you keep
In life, they will go unrecognized
in the sort, inevitable breakage.
Home, I see my own antique shop
Falling into fewer hands
The greater I’m loved on earth.
The lower the selling price
Will be on all these things
You can price and sell for me.
-- Gora
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