A Singing Bowl

Dove-hearted lover
of a quiet life,
have you ever understood
how hunger can make you
loud even as it makes you weak?

Flower-eyed changeling,
sure of a place in this order,
have you ever seen how those teetering
on a ledge might rage at you
as they fall?

Moon-captured elf holding on
to mythic peace for blind life,
do you see anyone at all
out there in shadow?
They see you:

like a target,
a singing bowl 
empty of sustenance
by design.

About Tony Brown

A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

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