In the jigsaw puzzle on your basement table
(the one you started by candlelight last winter)
I’m the piece that belongs in the corner
over by the edge,
one in a myriad of
bits of cloudless sky blue.
If you notice me at all,
it’s because my cardboard layers
are slowly separating,
loosened by a toddler’s slobber,
nervous red fingernails, or
maybe the spreading condensation from a neglected glass of iced tea.

The first pieces placed are the obvious ones:
the horse’s face, the flashing scarlet of the woman’s dress,
the stable, solid lines of the edge.
And then the frustration of placing the commonplace:
using as a reference
uncertain, looping edges
that don’t complete an object

In my tumbled pile of blue i wait
for eyes perceptive enough
to make me fit.

If i could urge my paper fibers into motion
creep to the edge of this endless plateau of tableland
-wood grain showing conspicuously through the blue sky pure
in the hole that i leave-
and drop quietly to the
stains of the dusty second-hand carpet,
try out that existence for awhile…
Maybe then,
with the near-completion of a picture perfect scene
above me
might drop to their knees,
crawl around in the grime
and with searching fingers
…..find me.



About ruthie.voth

Wife of one, mother of four, friend of many. Lover of details, color, good conversations, finding balance, and being honest. Passionate lover of a well-crafted sentence - even more so if it's witty. Weird blend of cynical optimist. I'm the worst kind of woman. I'm high maintenance, but I think I'm low maintenance. Somehow, people still love me. Must be grace.
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2 Responses to Scene(seen)

  1. sarah says:

    i keep up with both! and again, i love the word pictures in this one. so vivid.


  2. Uncle Dave says:

    I check both … and this is quite a unique poem. I have read it several times, and I think I get it.


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