Poetry Is a Mirror

{November 28, 2012}   30 Poems in November: Poem #28


 I can picture the magic of movement surrounding me.

My thoughts freeze.

And there they are, my problems suspended in air, hanging from a yarn, ready to fall over me, laughing, changing shapes, getting me dizzy, drunk and wasted with useless solutions.

Bouncing me on the edge of falling. So delicate, so slow, trapped in gravity; Tied to thinking.

The background tick-tock stopped.

 No rush, no worries.

Take the scissors and cut the strings.

Drop the consequences.

Because anyway, the charge, it’s always on me.

by Kimberly Chambers

Care Center Student

To sponsor The Care Center Poets’ Team  for the “30 Poems in November” fundraiser for literacy, visit:



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