Poem #15

Disintegration

My intention

­– buried as deep

as rock strata

beneath the mined

and broken earth –

was abstracted

into straight strips

and squared off.

 

The obsessive search

until the silver seam

is found.

Meanwhile,

the gutted Earth

gasps, goes unheard.

 

Who would follow

these strange maps

turtle turned into

a quiltmaker’s template?

The geologist

who has it now.

Disintegration

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7 thoughts on “Poem #15

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