Random Acts of Poetry

Random Acts of Poetry

Sitting There

My mind on a sunset:
Screen-saver leaves the color of flame.
Vague complaints pool in the haunches.
My foot's asleep.

I fiddle with
A loose button on my chest,
Wishing to attack all troubles
With spool and needle.

Poke, pull, that gentle hiss.
Thoughts like a crooked stitch:
My head has been burgled
By a flock of magpies.

There's so much care in a square.
My hands, my spiders live lives
Of their own, it seems.
They're spinning a tangle of silk.