NaPoWriMo 4 – riddle

I hold a chest without a lid
I hold a face without a smile
I hold a song that’s never sung
I hold a crib without a child

it is, of course, a miracle,
cool smoothness settling
into my curved hand.
it is, of course, simple –
paper coloured, smooth
river stone, sea-swirled
pebble.
It is, of course, full,
empty, alive, inert,
potential.

If I could catch a golden coin
Unweave a cloud within a bowl
Fix a box of silk and bone
Then perhaps I’d make a whole

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4 thoughts on “NaPoWriMo 4 – riddle

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