The Girton Poetry Group

Not Averse

The chicken and the egg

I live!  Un-ownable, not made: revealed.

Confused and worn, I don’t know if I’m here.

My form: beauty induced in smears of paint.

Yet in this well-formed image, I’m confirmed.

Your mind, your hands!  You stroked me into light…

Eternal concept, crystalline, unknown…

But I can’t reach or feel your fragile form.

What kind of fool deceives himself like this?