4/19/25: song, again

 Today's prompt. I am sharing a Margaret Atwood poem with you all because she's a real gem.

i don't know, but the sobs run their
coarse nature, me through the blender.
wringing every last stucco tear, each
one, a little shard-glass accumulations. 

i don't know, but i've left myself
weathered, spotted in a springtime
sun. shriveled. too long, too little,
too late.

i don't know, but another dream
in another mirror, melody in flux
for a limited time. nothing to it,
nothing doing.

i don't know, but the scars do 
the good lord's work on themselves
and leave behind a faded cave painting
reminders to the self, lesson for the others.

i don't know, but i've let it resume
when it was otherwise concluded,
when it was otherwise the dying gasp
of a deflating balloon after the party.

i don't know, but we'll see where
it takes us. see the ride to the horizon
and wonder if we're coming or going.
let the rest take care of itself.