Scrappy, silent noise

jarring you almost back to sleep.

Gentle sharpness –

scissors cradled in an angora wrap

.

Pointed glass

traces a red trail

down a graceful curve of flesh.

.

Under the ground and over,

moving with slow speed

massive momentum

screeches dangerously around a bend,

uphill

and down.

.

This flat, contoured day.

Mountainous times

from a distance

as textured as scratches

on a polished pool-table ball

rolling around an undecided day

.

Violins, violence

Bach to hard city jam

Discord?

or heartstrings

rippingly played?

Sue Boudreau

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