In This Small Room
in this small room
the walls are sighing
diaphragmatic rhythms
pulse the air
one round table
three legs beneath
weak & unstable
as my heart’s beat
the lamp casts
light shadows
onto the floor
chimera of bone & sinew
remain untouched
folded in self-containment
light and dark
found on x-ray film
through the window
the fog clings
to the bare-boned tree
just a blurred vision
bound by borders
between what is here
and what is not
in this small room
Pamela Olson, 7/6/08
This poem was inspired
by the prompt at
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