Despair

For seventy days I have been
carving the rock of my despair,
blindfolded and using only what
is given into my hands. Sometimes
this is a file or hammer; at others
nothing but my cracked fingernails.
This morning, finally, my labour is
rewarded; a figure has emerged from
the stone. Blindfold removed,
I’m unmoved to find myself gazing into
the hollow eyes of my own likeness,
if a little rough around the edges.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s