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Tending Dust with A Stick

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  • Tending Dust with A Stick

    Night is some sort of spot behind the eyes you wake alone
    with a migraine memories flood out of your satchel the harsh
    words of your father the endless bickering inside the house
    you stand outside in the cold shivering in the dark perhaps
    you were banished there for some inconsequential wrongdoing
    but here you find a brief respite yours eyes bleary and stinging
    hold back the tears above the cold stars you wish for another life
    what helps fear to prune its thicket one thinks of the bones
    stretching out opening their doorways becoming aqueducts
    so that the marrow can wash out like lava with the ground
    wanting to eventually glisten down our fur how can we not be
    pleased to have come this far to fall out of the mind into tears

  • #2
    The title of this alone is wonderful! I like the idea of some forced exile in early life becoming an induction into the healing relief of tears. The feeling of wishing for another life is vividly conveyed. The omission of punctuation adds a sense of immediacy, giving the impression that this is unwrought reflection, streaming freshly in the moment.


    • #3
      A beautiful, thought-provoking piece, Tanner, full of great imagery. I like this... what helps fear to prune its thicket.
      You have also captured the essence of a universal feeling, which I have personally experienced.