poems in my sock
the heart of words are
writing themselves on my wall
falling into my sock
made of yarn
white wool
size small
and oh the heart of words fell
into my sock
rhythms, poetics
slurred out upon air
how i roll off
my tongue
and just said nothing
but the pain i felt
as tears drizzle on
i keep my feet warrn
beneath the heavy fabric of
my skin
with words dropping on
breaking into verses
and i say, "poems in my sock"
~
©2008 Kai C.
2 comments:
Nice Piece.
i didn't quite get it all - but the title amused me. ;-)
Post a Comment