Last night the river flooded
and hauled away my answers.
I should not have stacked them
so near the bank. I'm left
with questions stored
in small dry places, bowed
shelves, bitter boxes. So far
the roof is holding.
Rain slaps and pummels
it in surges. I start
to unpack questions.
My smashed answers
roll and twist toward
a delta or a dam or just
rocks on the way. Today
I fret and squirm and
say What are they for?
What are they for?
This only adds to a stuffed
frustrating inventory.
hans ostrom 2021
No comments:
Post a Comment