I Am
I’m the uttered word
The arrow in the apple
Seething on the tongue
I am the finger
Moving across the white page
Blind eyes see black rage
I am the blown sand
Making dunes by shifting seas
Time falls like a leaf
I am in your head
A constant chirping to see
Rain fogs the glass pane
I am the sweet fruit
Each bite the child’s face is smudged
Innocence is beauty
Beauty is a leaf
Falling like light from a tree
Debris on the ground.
Copyright © David Smalling | Year Posted 2009
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