Blogging & Poems, My Poems

Poem with an Oddly Placed Title

Sorry in advance for the title; it just seemed right.

A Quiet Suicide

1.

The movement was subtle—the break
from vine

to vineyard,

the watching
of broken bird eggs,

hairline fractures.

The young ones, they had eyes

like water
and baking powder.

2.

A field dotted
with old corn stalks

and dandelions,

a sound
from the corner woods

that became

the softer

of the two.

3.

She drinks red wine until
all she wants to do—

all she can do—

is break the glass.

Red and vein over
copper and white marble

countertop.

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