hiatus

it stops before its end
rightful
ness
shatters the wind, creaks sand
under the weight of the world in
only three syllables
attach
ment
over hills atop planes, fly high
moments, cries, tears, selves
for i am rust, lust, lost
in the mist of my
word
age

yes: a number hangs over my head
telepathy of souls, clocks run
as
tray
lead me on, come take me home
(but where is home? what
is a wall made of? do bricks
crumble under their
own weight? how does one
stop thinking? how and when
and with whom?)
dust in the air, petrified
a pause:

silence

memories gone, dead, yet never
for
gotten

(Wrote this in response to Poetry Rehab 101: Hiatus [now being hosted by Andy Townend]).

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One thought on “hiatus

  1. I like the way that you have broken the flow of this poem which adds to the sense of dislocation provoked by the words you have chosen, thanks for sticking with the rehab in Mara’s absence!

    Liked by 1 person

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