A matter of timing,
I know-

a word planted here,
stumbling,
staggering,
stutter that
trips from bitterness’
coated,
numb lips-

Memory is free,
but it seems the
free package can
distort or cut out
some of the picture
(photo shop, if you will;
filter it!)

Still, inconsistencies,
peculiarities give me
flutterbyes.

These yawning yearnings
stoke a quest,
pawing through so much
cubic zirconia,
shuffling fresh-inked
papyrus
strange paper fans
on the floor.

Eyes pierce holes in
the blaring screen,
no fingerprints
for names,
photos, times,
some faces-

anatomy of blue
shadows
elusive.

Stab your goad
in my fatigue,
Lord, let these chips
lay out just so-
a prayer shifts all in
it’s time-

Until the central
click, way quieter
than expected,
an epiphany-
and the balances,
connections
gently form the answer.

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3 thoughts on “Searching

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