Saturday, May 28, 2011

The Acorn by Anne Selden [Annab]

The Acorn


My probing thought
seems caught,
swirling- hurled
like a rock.

I never meant
my touch
to wreck so much.

But the structure dissolves
with tingling,
conclusions mingling

I never meant
my touch
to yield so much.




1990 World of Poetry Bonus Contest- honorable mention

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