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my minute's here
by Charlie Morganminutes click by leaving their mark,
sometimes a minute carries a hammer
and those minutes, we remember.
the one where you're blessed
with a tiny palm of energy:
a velveteen hammer.
the one where the phone jangles
telling of death to an aunt:
a molten-steel hammer.
minutes call themselves;
carry hammers;
now, i must dance, my minute is here. 10/27/2007 Posted on 10/27/2007
Copyright © 2026 Charlie Morgan
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Alison McKenzie on 10/27/07 at 04:37 PM Some hammers flat knock us out, straight up!!! You are full of light and tenderness and awareness in this minute, Chaz!!! Love, love, love to you!!! |
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