Tired. Bars. Drinks.

Poem of the Day:
"Donor(Wind)" by Hadara Bar-Nadav
Prairie Schooner, Summer 2010


Donor (Wind)
The throat is optional,
as is the larynx.
What small object
can you pull
through the pink?
Many things died
here: a nest, an oil
leak, a typewriter
ribbon's language
of bile and thread.
Spread my useless
parts in the city
dump, spleen
fondled by seagulls,
vertebrae plucked
by lonely men.
Tape my useless
parts together again
and I'm your dis
appearing shatter.
Your snowflake
in heat. Now feed
me to the wind
where I belong.


Beautiful poem. To bed.

Sincerely,
A Poem A Day Audrey