circles by Bet Yeldem
its circular
not like a perfected gold band
but the rings of a tree
natural and wavering
a flawed roundness
within the solid mass that is its shield
her return to romanticizing
him, hymns, the word, the world, anything
but herself
in coming around full circle
she never comes far
so mirrors are enemies
shes yet to defeat
but she sings
in hollows as if shes conquered the world
over again again
she inhales a pure moment
in cyclical fashion
as if it happens in each of her eternities
how can a year be so short and so long
the same way she smiles
only in seasons
she kisses falling leaves
buries them one by one
as near as she can to the cool water
waiting for the turning time so golden
waiting for the new life, the new song, the new
him, hymn, word, world, anything
while peeling the dead away
unearthing herself
03/23/2008 Posted on 03/23/2008 Copyright © 2024 Bet Yeldem
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