Day 27: Tupelo Press 30/30 Poetry Project ( National Poetry Month)
RHAPSODY IN SPRING
I lay under the piano when the eighty-eight’s revolutions
reverberate in my skull and spine. Tomorrow morning,
I may not be here, for example. Just like a ghost falls into a
grass-colored bedspread and tosses my heart away
from my ribs. I close my eyes to remember how to create
millions of words. Fingers trill the keys like an avalanche.
From the window, I see hail bulleting the soil.
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