One Day We’ll Hit The Ground

A tumbling essence of words,
Art, culture, history: when will
You cease to plummet?
What is the ground to you?

A bed, a mother’s embrace.
I suffocate under blankets,
Yet wake the next morning.

One day I’ll be a euphemism
And you’ll be a metaphor;
At that moment we’ll finally
Understand what a poem is.

Copyright 2013
A. J. Hayes
Give a poet a pen