Gravitas

For every poem

I put here,

there are four more

never shared,

around six never written

and twenty-seven partially thought out.

For every word

that hits the body like a pointed

icicle, fractured from the eave,

whistling, shattering, dripping in ink

and finally melting into nothing

in the strong daylight of to dos-

there is still, every chance

for a point to form 

itself. And so I just let gravity

weigh the choice-

to keep holding on or simply

let it melt away. 

Painting by Pekka Halonen, 'Rock covered in ice and snow' c. 1911, Finnish National Gallery, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.