After Seventeen Years

I am poured and swelled to bursting

like the brimful cup. You would say,

surface tension. You would say,

internal pressure. The molecules

at the top, not being surrounded

by the same, are pulled, irresistibly,

inwards. You would say, this contractive

tendency allows the surface to resist

external forces. It will push back.


I would say,

it makes perfect sense.

I would say,

I can even name the molecules:

failure, love, grief

wrongs, love, forgiveness

child, parent, love


Starting out in a completely different place, I found myself using lots of repetition, perhaps still pondering Quickly’s Prompt for April 22. Thanks to Wikipedia for a crash course in “surface tension.”

3 thoughts on “After Seventeen Years”

      1. Oh, no worries! I read poetry everyday that I don’t always get all the nuances of–so I try to take in the overall spirit, especially of the specific poet–and it’s all good!


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