Poem – Disintegration (By David Russell)

Disintegration

The bottom fell out

And all things gathered,

Reverted to their origins

In skips, on pavements,

Fell to casual hands.

But at the pit

Of all exhaustion,

The bottom of grip’s loss

Are seeds and roots

Of restoration

Which in throbbing cycles

Breathe out on pine and belt.

The bottom stood solid.