poetry by j matthew waters

motionless & wrapped in a shawl

not sure if we’re picking up the pieces
or simply putting them
back together
like some subliminal jigsaw puzzle
showcasing rose petals on a hardwood floor
a shadowy figure in the corner rocker
bent but not broken
a filtered sun unable to expose
any kind of emotion
let alone a mind suspended in time

november two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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