blog of poet, leah umansky

The Used Heart

What is not capered off, not pecked at or pecked-in, not taken down a peg or two

What is not                                                                                             no, never you mind.

The meanest thing next to a pale place in the sky, reckoned or un-so, is you, honey.  

‘Spose the way this all ginghamed – though some might say unseamed  – it’s no longer tucked-in.

Here’s a taunt:  I am still.  

I am still this.

© Umansky 2009