Deconstruction

The whole story begins to rip

like a wet paper bag,

contents pushing through the corners

We have been so far

from where we belong,

so removed

from what we’re meant to be,

bundled away in this dark sack

wrapped up in our separate packages

But here’s the rain

and here’s a soggy mess,

and here in streaked glimpses

we see some light

We will get out of here somehow

and lift our faces to the rain

and sing and sing

and dance and dance.

©Wendy Mulhern

January 26, 2017