One Cracked Egg
Nothing separates at 3:21 AM.
Everything runs together like an
egg with a broken yolk, or a body
and brain refusing rest, wandering
like a phantom through a darkened room,
a wounded family walking on egg shells
through a relentless, creaking house.
Two more hours and the alarm will bring
A new day to this day without ending. The
two will become one cracked egg with a double
yoke, plowing the fields of time together,
step by faithful step, encouraged along
by the crack of the plowman’s whip.
Copyright © Ken Mowery | Year Posted 2017
|