by Colette Tennant
I don’t like it when scientists call me a carbon-based life form
it makes me sound like a pencil smudge on my writing finger
a really bad child at Christmas
clumps left on the oven floor when an apple pie runs over
a suspect’s fingerprintcoal a million years from diamonds
an accidental piano key
mascara tears
a Goth kid’s hammer-smashed fingernails
an Ash Wednesday forehead every day
the leftover eyes of a slumped jack-o’-lantern
a snow pile in a Cleveland parking lot late March
a hurried tattoo
bathroom graffiti
an orphaned chimney sweep
a heap of autumn leaves, colors all burned to ash
—from Rattle #45, Fall 2014
Tribute to Poets of Faith
Categories: Art, Sister Sirens
Reblogged this on Lisa Lanser Rose and commented:
A fanciful poem for a smudgy day. Enjoy!
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Reblogged this on I just have to say….
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Love the imagery
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