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,

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