A piece
of me
dangles
above
newborn
eyes-
Legs jig
arms spin
but that
ball
of intellect
lies
that ball
of rage
cuts
this ball
of love
falls
and
bounces
away.
We are at root causes.
Scent of remembered
sweat:
through cracks
it drips,
Yet now–
…silence…
(c) Rob Goldstein 2015-2020
