Poetry Of Things

concentric circles
my universe is not your universe
i am a circle expanding and too
i am a circle shrinking upon itself

parchments of cloth mama's crochet
patches of moments child's chilling
chimera chimes of Chippewa

a blue butterfly kept on moth
balls, purple feathers, a white trunk
a T-square, a picture of Nefertiti

georgia o'keefe, a poetry of things
an art, a form, a shape of pain, a mold
of molds, we relate to this pain that
clings to our feet like anklets. We are.

poem by Ric S. BastasaReport problemRelated quotes
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