Wednesday, February 26, 2014


there were three
blank pages
one tore itself off at the seam
angry, reveling in the ripping
edges serrated, shredding
each piece

there were two
blank pages
one balled itself up, incomplete
wrinkling question and answer and process
pillowing darkness
crumbling dream

there remained one
page left
brave to be open, courage to let
life scribble ink to each tumbling breath
brimming with passion and vulnerable voice.