A Cast Burden

This is an old, heavy stone. Chosen for its color and shape,

plucked from the earth and carried for decades. Rubbed

smooth with soft hands, corners rounded and formed,

 

it fits you. I have seen secret places you keep it (front pocket

of some favorite jeans, the bottom corner of your handbag,

under a pillow during winter), always hidden, but accessible

 

and convenient. Ready to be lifted out and over head when

most unexpected. You have covered this stone in rarefied

elegance and loving modesty, masking any insidious intent.

 

But I feel the shiver from its shadow pass over my heart,

an awkward stillness, while my words are stunted before

being breathed away. Mounting pressure as it sways in

 

a discerning arc, twisting on an unseen string, tied loose

to your index finger, always waiting for the inevitable

snap and fall.

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About fenster

There are some who call me, Tim?

2 responses to “A Cast Burden”

  1. Kat says :

    So I admit, at first I didn’t love this poem. But you had me turned by the last stanza. It changed everything.

    Nice work.

  2. fenster020 says :

    Glad it turned you by the end. I had that first line in my head all day.

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