Monday, June 4, 2012

Monday And The Meaning Of Work

Does your body know why it breathes?
So it can sigh, says mine.
And my heart, it beats,
My ankle, rotates
outward from my center.
My fingers form semaphores, unseen - 
Tiny pins of light ignite the air,
And single strands of silver hair
stitch those signals tight.
Brain-named; lame-brained or wise -
You write that story to find out what happens
Not to find out why.

June 4, 2012 Ravenna Taylor

Thanks to Halvard Johnson for the volley

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