brittle

 

i am duty without good news
blame with nowhere to lay

wither winter
weight bearing freight
it bows the bones
runs deep
flows in folds.
I am riddled
with the returning
(is it the same as never going forward? the same as losing focus?)
what I meant to say
stays meant
caught
in the roar and repair
of my mis-making
maneuvering
waxy waning.