Moral Inventory Poem by Joseph Narusiewicz

Moral Inventory



In a glass room with a glass table
No one there
No orange meadows or vines
A place of perfect destitution
The wind is gone
The sea never speaks

Interrogation of a wry conscience
I sit on a glass chair
Wit in the glass basket
Time is a porcelain pen
Dreams the closed door
Moral inventory

Moral Inventory
Saturday, June 11, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: conscience
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Joseph Narusiewicz

Joseph Narusiewicz

So St Paul, Minnesota
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