Time shattered by the wind
(and axe)
And scattered in the trees
We gathered up pieces
Put back together
Elmer’s, Scotch, and stitches
And now there are 363 days per year
And forty days a month
and sometimes now we skip a day
Or two, or four, or five
Seven days a week you say?
I know eight or nine
The calendar is burning
Its ashes touch the sky
3 comments:
A lot of nice contrast here. Makes me wonder how exactly do I imagine time being scattered in the trees. And then you take something so majestic and patch it up so crudely (there's the contrast). The last line is ace, and the last two have a great rhythm, which is somewhat uneven in the rest of the poem, at least how I read it anyway. If you were still greatly focused on presentation you could have went crazy with this poem. I love the imagery which is very inviting. And I can't help but notice you used a literary device which I recently learned: polysyndeton. I guess school is good for something.
...please where can I buy a unicorn?
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