Thursday, May 23, 2019

Glass




                                              In the empty house,
I accidentally touched something against a glass;
it instantly, and quiet beautifully exclaimed bong.
Not a cry of pain or discomfort, more a declaration
of being. Bong in a clear, bright, unwavering voice,
neither male nor female but indisputably glass;
not any glass, but this glass three quarters full of water.

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