Since I haven’t had a lot of time
to write lately, I’ll be sharing an older poem.
Yes, my style may change over time, but I like to think that even the older ones can be fun sometimes. Here’s one of my favorites from a creative writing course in college. I was once a proud reader who didn’t need glasses to read. That is until I read too much…
Reading
Glasses
Two owlets perch on a wing.
Hooked beaks on plump fools
stuffed with heaps of mice.
Two boxes crammed
with clocks and calendars
and leaves to the brim.
Two attic windows side by side,
overlooking an owl’s nest,
boxes stacked to the sills. Here
until the house burns.*
***
Let’s chat! What did you think of
the poem? Any fellow readers out there who wear glasses?
*The final sentence sometimes gets left out because it changes the entire mood of the poem. Personally, I like it because it adds a touch of mortality to what would otherwise be a lasting building.
Similar posts: Do Not Dissect This Poem, Origins, and Pine Trees
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