“sparrow in no direction”

Like a sparrow in the window
of a Midwest funeral,
I am tapping on your shoulder
to disrupt this desperate mood.
There are lives I have torn—
but only few have yet to heal,
and I am wondering if you are one of them—
or one who has never broke their seal.
Like a sermon to the suicide,
while the razor cuts—
I am asking you to interrupt
before I hold out to you
my cup.

narrative poem written on 04-17-2010 by: on mattkane.com
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