15/30

4/15/13
From Rachel McKibbens blog - writing exercise #96:  http://rachelmckibbens.blogspot.com/




I opened you, lonesome child
and inside was a breathless crow.
I opened the crow and inside was
a broken crayon.
I opened the crayon and inside was
a bottle of gin.
I opened the gin and inside was
a stage.
I opened the stage and inside was
ashes and cigarette butts.
I opened the ashes and inside was
nothing.
I opened nothing and inside was
a palm.
I opened the palm and inside was
my son.
I opened my son and inside was a
field.
I opened the field and inside was
morning.