The placement of each piece
a cruel mystery.
I sit for hours
forcing them together.
Sky into ground.
Human into animal.
Bending them
creating unnatural wonders.
My creation:
misshapen,
defeated.
I look at the picture
on the box
and wonder where
I went wrong.
1 comments:
I like how this poem uses the puzzle as a metaphor for writing poems. The lines that explain the puzzle pieces that don't fit is very clever in that it's happening within the poem. And like all poets, the last stanza hints at the insecurity that we all have as poets.
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