Life is a circle,
old as my tongue,
and older than my teeth,
a game out of joint, twitching
like an ancient Ferris wheel.
Is this checkers or chess?
Curses pass between us
like kisses. Is Picasso
spelled with one 's' or two?
I hide to avoid
the ignorant, count to three
slowly, like in a movie,
then step away from the crazy.
My naked hope
takes the queen and elopes
from a Tupperware world,
flying wild from this window,
to join a flock of passing geese.
Tess Kincaid
Posted over on Willow Manor
Listed as #1 on Magpie Tales 36
1 comment:
Where in the world did you find this image?! It's great!
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