Tending Dust with A Stick

[Tanner]

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

[grant hayes]

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.

[MHenry]

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.