Hourglass – NaPoWriMo Day 17


from a child’s hand
lifted by cranes
left bagged
in crystalline moulds
blown along footprints
sunken wet traps
in socks of families
and between thighs
shaken onto bed
clothes and carpets
sitting in a hoover
to settle fragments
of cliff

broken fragments
of what we did
and gaps between
of the things we did not
did not flick away
did not lay side-by-side
did not hold back
did not make lines that
children would see
but left spaces in a vacuum

What do you think?

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