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by Simon Perchik Motionless, on the way out no longer feels at home though this single-minded nail wants the job finished now wanted a small hole, filled to silence the song in the picture in black and white taking her away holding on -what's left will lower the wooden frame is already caressing the wall that something happened to is surrounded by winds and cries that carry off birds, bent the Earth and the exhausted nail, by itself between your fingers and suddenness. Copyright 2015. All rights reserved. Want to comment on this story? Click Here to go the Literary Review Discussion Forum (for the subject, enter "Comment on poem Motionless") |