Hearts

One two three icicles were sitting
hanging on a branch, and the loop
broke that was holding them together.

Then the birch which was wisdom
sneezed at the very idea of hearts.
Who has a heart? I don’t. Surely

you’re just dreaming of the days
that only exist in the minds of children
unused to our hanging ways

or birds that are happy flying in the sky.
Only in happiness can there be hearts
Otherwise no natural light exists.

Then raindrops evaporated into
containers of noise and played
for the seventeenth year, obliterating.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s