Palimpsest

I am broken,

Worn by ages

And poor choices.

The pieces are all there,

But not in their accustomed place.

They are unruly and misbehave.

Is this voice still mine?

The story I told you yesterday

Is not the story I tell today.

Is this hand still mine?

Pulled by geppetto-strings

They appear ghostly as I write.

Are these eyes still mine?

They are dimmed

But see the importance of things

With greater clarity.

I am broken

So that I will be remade.

TOP

Click here to return to Home Page