Solvent Poem by Suzanne Bronson
Solvent
The illusion of work and wages –
a thing that is had
or needs to be,
a thing between the fear
and a hope that hangs me.
I’ve drowned like timber standing
of a tactile worry –
the slow saturation of my children’s eyes.
I’ve ignited the prospect, the possible,
the potential – again and again –
to push back that horizon,
an end that I cannot admit or speak.
2007 Suzanne Bronson
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/8/2024 4:18:21 AM # 1.0.0.1119
