i don’t feel as though i laugh so much anymore.
have i lost my spark? i implored,
has it scuttled inside the glass cabinet of youth
where relics, faded photographs and
other when-i-was-your-age paraphernalia are stored?
i telephoned the locksmith
and he informed me that
the only way to unlock a glass cabinet of that sort
is to take off one’s shoes and socks,
run into the backyard, on a rainy day
and roll most wildly in the mud –
the key is in there somewhere
if you feel about for long enough.
(Image by wallposterstar.)
One comment
I think this may be my favourite poem so far Chloe, absolutely gorgeous
by laurajeanhawkins on October 19, 2010 at 12:15 AM . #