as yet untitled-

by Richard Trotter

Can we gently destroy
the infant spiders web
that grew too fast around me?

The shards grow into my eyes
roughly smoothed by your smile
digging deeper, the hole I began.

Snapping myself like a biscuit
I throw the longing wrapper
into the fire but it will not burn


Posted on 03/20/2006
Copyright © 2020 Richard Trotter

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 01/03/13 at 06:11 PM

these three stanzas enchant.

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