Lost poem #1 from 2010
Disappearing
Resuscitate me. Sun
Has escaped through my
tired fingertips
Has strained to fill holes in my
eyesockets with white stones
Has been sucked into a
plastic hope-making machine
To feed the famished
offerings of hazy pebbles
I am pinned like an insect
To a world made of felt and
petrified by freezing winds
The glitter inside me is
microscopic, dormant
Waiting to be polished by
some warm breath,
some soft friction.