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free-verse poem based on a dream; published in "A Celebration of Young Poets" |
| The darkened room, the slow-turning fan The bed by my wall, and me on the bed The mirror adjacent, the piece that fell out The piece shaped like "q", I caught in my hand... The piece in my hand, the chain on the fan The sound that it made, the sound that did "click" Over and over... The glass in my hand, the glass that I dropped The shards on the floor, those Shards of Glass The mess on the floor, the floor I should clean… My feet on the bed, now over the side The side of the bed, just over the glass The glass on the floor, the Shards of Glass The glass that now pointed, pointed straight up… The glass I can't see, the glass on the floor The floor by my bed, I put my feet down The glass on the floor, the glass pointing up Now stuck in my feet, I fall to my knees... The pain in my feet, it shot up my legs The pain in my legs, I cannot move I can't move forward, I can't get up The glass that now holds me, holds me down And keeps me from the door... |