
A million pieces
of me
swept under
the rug
until spring.
A quiet urging
to take the stained rug out
wafted in
with morning air.
I shook and
snapped dust
on lifeless grass.
Gingerly stepped inside
where a million pieces of me
took one season
to mend
under the rug
now tattered and trashed.
Follow Naked Reflections…