firstfullmoon: Dorianne Laux, “What’s Broken”[text ID: The slate black s
firstfullmoon: Dorianne Laux, “What’s Broken”[text ID: The slate black sky. The middle step / of the back porch. And long ago / my mother’s necklace, the beads / rolling north and south. Broken / the rose stem, water into drops, glass / knobs on the bedroom door. Last summer’s / pot of parsley and mint, white roots / shooting like streamers through the cracks. / Years ago the cat’s tail, the bird bath, / the car hood’s rusted latch. Broken / little finger on my right hand at birth—/ I was pulled out too fast. What hasn’t / been rent, divided, split? Broken / the days into nights, the night sky / into stars, the stars into patterns / I make up as I trace them / with a broken-off blade / of grass. Possible, unthinkable, / the cricket’s tiny back as I lie / on the lawn in the dark, my heart / a blue cup fallen from someone’s hands.] -- source link