by Lee Kiblinger
nevers hang heavy like revolving wreaths eyes tire shut with the clock’s steady chime (will you please reconsider, he breathes) my wisdom-worn words will reap truth in their time but laughing now, it’s humbling how after providence rehangs our wonted old ways and care-filled creeds submit to the wind those stiff-wired nevers, loosed from frames slowly, ribbon-wrapped, slip from the mind and fall, floating fragile, freely to life’s floor, and never becomes a Spirit-surrender that I must reconsider.
Lee Kiblinger is a wife, mother, literature and composition teacher, and late blooming poet. She lives in Tyler, Texas, and spends her time reading classics, grading essays, laughing with her three teenagers, and enjoying long walks. Her poetry has appeared in Calla Press. You can read more of her poetry at her new blog, www.ripplesoflaughter.com.