Paper Bag Poem by Nicola Thoner
Paper Bag
You've been wounded
cut open
picked apart
and lost your pieces in the open breeze
Taken to the edge of the curb
and thinking
you have been lifted to
the edge of the moon.
Where jumping off feels like 1000 feet
Instead of half an inch.
Don't you wonder why you don't fall
when the moon wanes?
Thursday, November 13, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: paper
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4/25/2024 4:26:01 AM # 1.0.0.1119
