Poems from Megan Collins
I don't know iftomorrow will beworth it, but, I knowthat parts of the next day,or the next will be, but Idon't feel real, or a partof this...
To the tiny ones sittingin tin cans, hands on theirlaps, heads bowed, bodieskicked, there are skies andvirtue and glass to help youslide...
And life with all its tensile,comes again and again afteryou're gone, and I want tofeel this emotion, a littleless now, I'm less steady.
...
Together for short livesbouncing ideas and sorrowsfalling deep above the groundstitching holes, touching creatureslistening to be led away...
I feel too much now,darling, I'm sorry to thedaughters I won't give birth
to, but I know there's still wonderin this world, but the work it...