Hourglass – NaPoWriMo Day 17

Hourglass

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
waste

crush
mingle
mash
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
trickles

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