Singly
and together we crowd
into
the designated space, careful
to
avoid the edges and the inevitable
cuts,
but we are so many and the space
so
small we soon find ourselves
crowding
and elbowing each other,
finding
breathing increasingly difficult
as
more and more of us push inside,
until
some of us are hanging
by
the edges, irrespective of the inevitable
blood
staining the white, and the words
upon
the white, until the space itself
begins
to shudder and buckle causing
the
wisest among us to leap for safety.
Over
at dVerse
Poets today, the prompt is idioms, and I can think of no idiom I’m least
fond of than this one. To see more poems, please visit dVerse
Poets.
Photograph by Petr Kratochvil via Public
Domain Pictures. Used with permission.
