Inkling
an online journal of poetry and prose

04/13/09

When I Was Asked to Describe my Life

A rough drawn map

burned at the edges;

routes like veins out of

a crayon box full of colors,

marks here and there,

corresponding names and numbers,

moments of time

that were present in mind

during a period of my life;

as if trying to remember:

what last years first snow was like,

the way a lake smells after fog,

where it was I left the key,

and how the stars are uncountable

away from the city.

A timeline following its own format

etched in granite

and damp

like a dripping sponge.