dragging is a learned subject

like a soft feather floating inward

and outward with swift forward


I saw the gate open

but only slightly

and inside

everything was exactly as I wanted

but not really

the curse of blindness

is revealing

like the words that make our ceiling


I want to sound like me

but what am I?

I have no real voice or reason

like the song of something more

something else 

something before.

am I a sound?

like bells in the background

swinging, swung and sullen

I might be a sound. 
– sheila c.





8 thoughts on “dragging 

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