Tag Archives: Layers

Layers

Layers

Layer of this and layer of that,
layers of sofas and ladies and cats.
Layers of flower and pillow and cloud.
No single layers of things are allowed.
Layer the apples in a fine pie.
Pile up houses into the sky.
Things seem to want to settle in tiers.
I’ve been assembling piles for years!

Click on photos to enlarge.

For FridayPhoto Fun: Layers.

Layers


Layers

We store our truths in layers,
peeling back the amount we can stand to see.
Each year peels away some layers and builds others
until we grow in furrows and in hillocks.

Smooth truth is for the very young.
The old need their protections
as memory, like flesh and misfortune,
begins to bury itself to cluster underground

in cliques and hidden passageways,
lurking like guests in a British mystery play,
searching for us as we search for them in kind.
Old beaus, lost children and beachside vacations

sealed shoulder-to-shoulder in a too-small room––
a pantry, perhaps, or closet––
waiting waiting
to be peeled away.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/layers/