Monday, October 10, 2016

but it was time / I told them

and the gray clouds laid themselves
like blankets
on the bed of sky
the polished lacquer of the snow
did not fray
and the silver dollars of the stars
were spent in decluttering yet again

and the cars kept rolling down
the factory lines to the places
where products were claimed
the fir tree disgruntled
left the way of green
to bellow out yellow needles
and threads

the silent streets cowered
but I was calm
the books were leaving the house
they shouted and protested
but it was time
I told them
the boys won't read them ever again

when the chorus of weeping
was over   and paper filled the car
when the car left the stage
when the delectable words
were sent to Goodwill
for others to claim
I sat in the writing room   confronting silence

this is no children's game
the books were all sorted and decisions
had been made
they were packed in brown boxes to be sent away
and the remaining survivors understood
that they were at risk as well
the shelves that were blocked with traffic   became calm again

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