freezer burn

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thunk goes the drop;
maybe the second
maybe the third or fourth
maybe the fifth one…
it doesn’t matter
it’s not the business
of an over-frozen heart
to get just why
it doesn’t shatter.

it gets dropped and slides
across a slippery
kitchen floor.
it reads new information –
takes it in
and shuts its eyes
but cannot cry.
it’s past its
expiration date
but still it keeps its
place beside
the crescent rolls, the pie…
it stops its breathing
but decides it will not die
until it’s time to do
spring cleaning.
then all waste will pass away.
all cold-burned
birds of feeling
fly away on
trash day.

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freezer burn

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