wordsthroughtheglass

my brain on a page

cont.The Scrabble Challenge Poem

After the Trial

That was the eve
all was muted –
colour was glued
to the floor,
the radio was just
sand
emptying like figs
into our ears.

There were no jokes.

No acorns rolling on
titled tables, or dolls
without eyes
to play with.

All that was clear
was the orb
of blood
and regret
that rested in
our mouths.

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One thought on “cont.The Scrabble Challenge Poem

  1. Pingback: The Scrabble Challenge « wordsthroughtheglass

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