Tittle goes here

 

As a child, having learned that the dot over the lowercase i
held identity apart from the vertical stroke
she raised her hand intrigued
to ask for the name of the dot that rests below a question mark
only to be informed
in a tone that brooked no argument
period

A lifetime of acceptance followed
unquestioning irony
dot marks the end of the sentence
rests below uncertainty
bringing inquiry to close

Now she walks
beneath stony misplaced sun
caught off guard and far from home
worms dessicate before the onslaught
curling to imploration
unanswered

She bends to gather their familiar shape
entranced
hooks lost hopes over her fingers
hardened bodies
questions ceaseless
curve of entreaty
infinite

Left
haunted by the answer to a question she does not know how to ask
she goes on
period

 

11 thoughts on “Tittle goes here”

  3. “… curling to imploration…”
    I have seen the worms this way.
    There position familiar. I’m reminded of times I have been curled. Long ago.

    Ah, your words. I love them.

    2. I love when someone else has seen what I have seen in the way I’ve seen it.

      Thank you for that, Renee.

      That’s perfect.

    1. Best compliment ever except for the fact that I am never going to be able to post another poem.

      Hee hee.

      Thank you.

Comments are closed.