Pebbles, leaves, feathers, seeds-

I collect them as I claim the passing ground,

Step by aimless step, wandering down

Grey days and un-anchored weeks.

Each fragment of Nature’s perfect imperfection

A squinted reflection of a cosmic masterpiece

That I’ll study then store in my museum mind-

Every facet is filed and archived

To the crypt-ish whiff of unvisited dark.



I should spend this eternity hunting your heart;

Sheared apart when my sin hit so hard.

But its rainbow splinters embedded themselves

In the farthest walls of the Universe,

And they glint there in the light

Of the loveliest stars.


5 thoughts on “The Collector

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