Monday, March 9, 2009

Friend

Bits of paper cling to a notebook's spine
Confessions to be pulled out of my soul
I need firm hands to tear them all away
and ears to listen as my words spill out
The job is messy, quite undignified
and yet rewarding when the task is done
Fragile, weak, small without my paper bits
you kindly help me take them to the trash
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2 comments:

Keith said...

Not a bad poem, Diane. Seriously. You create a good metaphor and follow it through several layers. I like it.

March 10, 2009 at 7:10 AM
Nae said...

Thanks for being such a good friend over so many years. Your job has indeed been messy, but I'm so grateful that you've helped me take things to the trash. You have quite the talent.

March 10, 2009 at 12:44 PM

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