Gardens, wide open spaces,
Tall grass and sunsets, ice cream on a hot day.
Violins and cellos as accompaniment.
This was the speech I planned.

Instead, I took the words,
The broken glass, shoes, old and tired;
Eggshells, crusts of bread, moldy cheese.
I threw them at you, threw them all
Until your ears must have burst from the noise–

Wishes are harder to picture in my mind,
Let alone speak of them; I cannot even whisper.
Cotton balls, the small hands of a child,
Feathers, bits of string and Eskimo kisses.
So, I gather these in my lap, close and safe.


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