Shovels (A poem for a friend with a broken heart)

They dig.

And then they dig

deeper and deeper.

Their only wish

is to seek and reveal—

and in the process

there will be scuffs

that fill with

mud and harden

and chip off again

and finally, when they

find their treasure

they go back

to work—

a little shinier now—

and fill in all those

empty holes.

 

 

 

DeMaris Gaunt

9-18-14

 

 

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