The Grey Space

You see the end of a lease, my precious possessions in boxes
I see a robbed bird’s nest, full of broken eggshells
A besieged castle, littered with cannon balls and fallen bricks
A draining bath of sugar soap tears
A skating rink with dust for ice
A pumped stomach at the close of a teenage party
The resting place of long delayed mail

In this hermit’s grotto I time travel with a list and bucket
And see an atom
Fallow earth waiting to be sown
The blue ball of lint from the top loader
The woven memories of a hundred washes
Three hundred days of skin and sweat

This is Fate’s rehearsal room

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