Saturday, May 31, 2014

A Pamela L. Taylor Poem

Experiment in Settling

Pour yourself—pure and cool—
into a glass jar filled with the simple
sand of me at the floor.

We’ll churn, shake, and spin
in our friction, turn together
become cloudy, become one.

Time and sense will suspend
as we cling to our turbid union.
We won’t know how long this

state will last before gravity
forces the natural breaking apart.
When your water goes quiet, larger

chunks of my wits will return to rockbottom
faster than the crumbs
of hope left in my heart.



  1. A rather special poet. You get it straight. For more:

  2. Thanks so much for posting this poem!