Thursday, December 19, 2013

Fried Marbles

I've discovered something
about people, striking
a match over the gas stove,

it kindles and crackles,
heating until the air shimmers
like summer -

clutching a handful of marbles,
it's so hard to let go,
glass globes rolling about
free as life -

there is no avoiding the heat
friends, but then, too, cold water
comes, and once silent marbles sizzle
in delight, so fragile,
a breath of beauty


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