Martas poems for Sunday, August 29, 2010

Here in the hollow of my hand right in the center of its palm I hold a drop of water, old and sad. It could have been present when the melting of the ice cap or dug up long ago, from deep inside the earth and have been all this time resting in a well Perhaps it could have been part of ancient rains or the only survivor of a river running free that dried up way back when. It is so perfect, so round, so wet It could be dew, or a tear, or sweat... but this drop of water laying here in the center of... Sign in to see full entry.