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Poetry

Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry  is just the ash.    — Leonard Cohen

Rib Cage

11/15/2017

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Rib Cage

I tend them carefully, these broken ribs.

In the bath, a warm amniotic fluid,
I’m no longer heavy as stone,
but buoyant--
empty as a broken cage.

What remains are shards of songs,
faded feathered dreams,
clipped wings--
all that could pierce the heart--
vanished now.

And the ribs?
Better broken than ossified.

After all, what can escape an unbroken cage?
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    Norma Bishop

    Poetry releases a stream of words, wrapping around rocks, scouring the bank—revealing. 

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