Something Beautiful: A Collage Poem

She wanted to create

something beautiful

from flint, razzle-dazzle

starlight—a phrase

she’d read in her student’s

poem, savored in her bones.

Pensive,

the scatter-shot of her thoughts

in Georgia eleven-point

a dash of pebbles, coffee grounds—

not pattern, a speckled random

assemblage. She types,

back-spaces. Types more.

O, consider

it was a kind of splendid

suffering. The shapes

the future held out

of reach:

a shiver, a punch,

a flight of birds arcing

South and gone.

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